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Copyright  1897  by  Henry  Altemui. 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 

The  Three  Musketeers, 5 

The  Taking  of  Lunotungpen,  .  .  .  .14 
The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment,  ...  23 
The  God  from  the  Machine,  ....  32 
Private  Learoyd's  Story,  ....  46 
The  Madness  of  Private  Ortheris,      .       .     59 

The  Solid  Muldoon, 71 

"With  the  Main  Guard, 86 

Black  Jack, 109 

The  Incarnation  of  Krishna  Mulvaney,  .  137 
The  Courting  of  Dinah  Shadd,  .  .  .178 
The  Big  Drunk  Dbaf', 216 


(iii) 


THE  THREE  MUSKETEERS. 

An'  when  the  war  began,  we  oliased  the  bold  Afghan, 
An'  we  made  the  l^loomin'  Ghazi  for  to  flee,  boys  O  ! 
An'  we  marched  into  Kabul,  and  we  tuk  the  Balar 

'Issar, 
An'  we  taught  'em  to  respec'  the  British  Soldier. 

Barrack  Room  Ballad. 

MuLYANEY,  Ortheris  and  Learoyd  are  pri- 
Yates  in  B  Com})any  of  a  line  regiment,  and 
personal  friends  of  mine.  Collectivel}^  I 
think,  but  am  not  certain,  they  are  the  worst 
men  in  the  regiment  so  far  as  genial  black- 
guardism goes. 

They  told  me  this  story,  the  other  day, 
in  the  Umballa  refreshment-room  while  we 
were  waiting  for  an  up-train.  I  supplied 
the  beer.  The  tale  was  cheap  at  a  gallon 
and  a  half. 

Of  course  you  know  Lord  Benira  Trig. 
He  is  a  duke,  or  an  earl,  or  something  un- 
official; also  a  peer;  also  a  globe-trotter.  On 
all  three  counts,  as  Ortheris  says,  "'e  didn't 
deserve  no  consideration."  He  was  out  here 
for  three  months  collecting  materials  for  a 
book  on  "Our  Eastern  Impedimenta,"  and 
quartering  himself  upon  everybody,  like  a 
Cossack  in  evening-dress. 

His  particular  vice  —  because  he  was  a 
Radical,  I  suppose — was  having   garrisons 

(5) 


6  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

turned  out  for  his  inspection.  He  would 
then  dine  with  the  officer  commanding,  and 
insult  him,  across  the  mess-table,  about  the 
appearance  of  the  troops.  That  was  Benira's 
way. 

He  turned  out  troops  once  too  often.  He 
came  to  Helanthami  Cantonment  on  a  Tues- 
day. He  wished  to  go  shopping  in  the  ba- 
zaars on  Wednesday,  and  he  "desired"  the 
troops  to  be  turned  out  on  a  Thursday.  On — a 
— Thursday !  The  officer  commanding  could 
not  well  refuse;  for  Benira  was  a  lord.  There 
was  an  indignation  meeting  of  subalterns  in 
the  mess-room  to  call  the  colonel  pet  names. 

"  But  the  rale  dimonsthrashin,"  says  Mul- 
vaney,  "  was  in  B  Corap'ny  barrick ;  we  three 
headin'  it." 

Mulvaney  climbed  on  to  the  refreshment- 
bar,  settled  himself  comfortably  by  the  beer, 
and  went  on :  "  Whin  the  row  was  at  ut's 
foinest  an'  B  Comp'ny  was  fur  goin*  out  to 
murthur  this  man  Thrigg  on  the  p'rade- 
groun',  Learoyd  here  takes  up  his  helmut 
an'  sez — fwhat  was  ut  ye  said  ?" 

"  Ah  said,"  said  Learoyd,  "gie  us  t'  brass. 
Tak  oop  a  subscripshun,  lads,  for  to  put  off 
t'  p'rade,  an'  if  t'  p'rade's  not  put  off,  ah'll 
gie  t'  brass  back  agean.  Thot's  wot  ah  said. 
AH  B  Coomp'ny  knawed  me.  Ah  took  oop 
a  big  subscripshun  —  fower  rupees  eight 
annas  'twas — an'  ah  went  oot  to  turn  t'  job 
over.  Mulvaney  an'  Orth'ris  coom  with 
me." 


THE  THREE  MUSKETEERS.  7 

"We  three  raises  the  divil  in  couples 
gin'rally,"  exphiined  Mulvaney. 

Here  Ortheris  interrupted.  "  'Ave  you  read 
the  papers?"  said  he. 

"Sometimes,"  I  said. 

"  We  'ad  read  the  papers,  an'  we  put  hup 
a  faked  decoity,  a — a  sedukshun." 

"^6dukshun,  ye  cockney,"  said  Mulva- 
ney. 

">16dukshun  or  sedukshun — no  great  odds. 
Any'ow,  we  arranged  to  talk  an'  put  INIister 
Benhira  out  o'  the  way  till  Thursday  was 
hover,  or  'e  too  busy  to  rux  'isself  about 
p'raids.  Hi  was  the  man  wot  said  :  *  We'll 
make  a  few  ru])ees  off  o'  the  business.' " 

"  We  hild  a  council  av  war,"  continued 
Mulvaney,  "walkin'  roun'  by  the  artill'ry 
lines.  I  was  prisidint,  Learoyd  was  minister 
av  finance,  an'  little  Orth'ris  here  was — " 

"  A  bloomin'  Bismarck  !  Hi  made  the  'ole 
show  pay." 

"  This  interferin'  bit  av  a  Benira  man," 
said  Mulvaney,  "  did  the  thrick  for  us  him- 
self; for,  on  me  sowl,  we  hadn't  a  notion  av 
what  was  to  come  afther  the  next  minut.  He 
was  shoppin'  in  the  bazaar  on  fut.  'Twas 
dhrawin'  dusk  thin'  an'  we  stud  watchin'  the 
little  man  hoppin'  in  an'  out  av  the  shops, 
thryin  to  injuce  the  naygurs  to  medium  his 
bat.  Prisintly,  he  sthrols  up,  his  arrums  full 
av  thruck,  an'  he  sez  in  a  consiquinshal  way, 
shticking  out  his  little  belly  :  '  Me  good  men,' 
sez  he,  'have  ye  seen  the  kernel's  b'roosh?' 


8  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

*  B'roosh  ?'  says  Learoyd.  '  There's  no  b'roosb 
here— nobbut  a  hekkn.'  '  Fwhat's  that?'  sez 
Thrigg.  Learoyd  shows  him  wan  down  the 
sthreet,  an'  he  sez :  '  How  thruly  Orientil !  I 
will  ride  on  a  hekkn.''  I  saw  thin  that  our  rigi- 
mintil  saint  was  for  givin'  Thrigg  over  to  us 
neck  and  briskit.  I  purshued  a  hekka,  an'  I 
sez  to  the  dhriver-divil,  I  sez:  'Ye  black 
limb,  there's  a  sahib  comin'  for  this  hekka. 
He  wants  to  go  jildi  to  the  Padsahi  Jhil' — 
'twas  about  tu  moiles  away — '  to  shoot  snipe' 
— chirria.  'You  dhrive  Jehannum  ke  marfik, 
mnllumf  'Tis  no  manner  nv  faider  bukkin^  to 
the  sahib,  bekaze  he  doesn't  samjao  your  bat. 
Av  he  bolos  anything,  just  you  choop  and  chel. 
Dekker?  Go  nrsty  for  the  first  arder-xnWe 
from  cantonmints.  Then  chcL  Shaitan  ke 
marfik,  an'  the  chooper  you  choops  an'  the  jilder 
you  chels  the  better  kooshy  will  that  sahib  be ; 
an'  here's  a  rupee  for  ye.' 

"  The  hekka-man  knew  there  was  some- 
thin'  out  av  the  common  in  the  air.  He 
grinned  and  sez:  'Boteachee!  I  goin' damn 
fast.'  I  prayed  that  the  kernel's  b'roosh 
wudn't  arrive  till  me  darlin'  Benira,  by  the 
grace  av  God,  was  undher  way.  The  little 
man  puts  his  thruck  into  the  hekka  an'  scut- 
tles in  like  a  fat  guinea-pig;  niver  offerin' 
us  the  price  av  a  dhrink  for  our  services  in 
helpin'  him  home.  'He's  off  to  the  Padsahi 
Jhil,'  sez  I  to  the  others."  Ortheris  took  up 
the  tale : 

"  Jist  then,  little  Buldoo  kim  up,  'oo  was 


THE  THREE  MUSKETEERS.  9 

the  son  of  one  of  the  artillery  saises — 'e  would 
'av  madea'evinly  news])aper-l)oy  in  London, 
bein'  sharp  and  fly  to  all  manner  o'  games. 
'E  'ad  bin  watchin'  us  puttin'  INIister  Benbira 
into  's  temporary  baroush,  an'  'e  sez  :  '^^'hat 
'ave  you  been  a-doin'  of,  sahibs  ?'  sez  'e. 
Learoyd  'e  caught  'im  b}'  the  ear  an'  'e  sez — " 

*'Ah  says,"  went  on  Learoyd:  "'Young 
mon,  that  mon's  gooin'  to  have  t'  goons  out 
o'  Thursday — kul — an'  thot's  more  work  for 
you,  young  mon.  Now,  sitha,  tak  a  tat  an' 
a  lookri,  an'  ride  tha  domdest  to  t'  Padsahi 
Jhil,  Cotch  tbot  there  hekka,  and  tell  t 
driver  iv  your  lingo  tbot  you've  coom  to  tak 
his  place.  T'  sahib  doesn't  speak  t'  baf,  an 
he's  a  little  mon.  Drive  t'  hekka  into  t'  Pad- 
sabi  Jhil  into  t'  watter.  Leave  t'  sahib  tbeer 
an'  roon  boam;  an  here's  a  rupee  for  tha." 

Tben  Mulvaney  and  Ortheris  spoke  to- 
gether in  alternate  fragments,  Mulvaney 
leading  [You  must  pick  out  the  two  s])eakers 
as  best  you  can]:  "  He  was  a  knowin'  little 
divil  was  Bbuldoo — 'e  sez  bote  achee  an'  cuts 
— Avid  a  wink  in  his  oi — but  Hi  sez  there's 
money  to  be  made — an'  Hi  want  to  see  the 
end  av  the  campaign — so  Hi  says  we'll  dou- 
ble bout  to  the  Padsabi  Jbil — and  save  tbe 
little  man  from  bein'  dacoited  by  the  mur- 
therin'  Bbuldoo — an'  turn  bup  like  reskoors 
in  a  Ryle  Victoria  Tbeayter  melodrama — so 
we  doubled  for  the  jhil,  an'  prisintly  tbere  was 
the  divil  of  a  hurroosb  bebind  us  an'  three 
bhoys  on  grasscuts'  tats  come  by,  poundin' 


10  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

along  for  dear  life — s'elp  me  Bob,  hif  Bhul- 
doo  'adn't  raised  a  reizular  harmy  of  decoits — 
to  do  the  job  in  shtile.  An'  we  ran,  an'  they 
ran,  shplittin'  with  laughin',  till  we  gets  near 
the  jhil — and  'ears  sounds  of  distress  floatin' 
raolloncally  on  the  heavenin'  hair,"  [Or- 
theris  was  growing  poetical  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  beer.  The  duet  recommenced; 
Mulvaney  leading  again.] 

"  Thin  we  heard  Bhuldoo,  the  dacoit^ 
shoutin'  to  the  hekka-man,  an'  wan  of  the 
young  divils  brought  his  lakri  down  on  the 
top  av  the  hekka-cover,  an'  Benira  Thrigg 
inside  howled  '  Murther  an'  death.'  Bhuldoo 
takes  the  reins  and  dhrives  like  mad  for  the 
jhil,  bavin'  dishpersed  the  hekka-dhriver 
— 'oo  cum  up  to  us  an'  'e  sez,  sezie :  '  That 
sahib's  nigh  gawbry  with  funk  !  Wot  devil's 
work  'ave  you  led  me  into  ?'  '  Hall  right,' 
sez  we,  'you  puckroio  that  there  pony  an^ 
come  along.  This  sahib's  been  decoited,  an' 
we're  going  to  reskv  'im  !'  Savs  the  driver: 
'  Decoits !  Wot  decoits?  That's  Bhuldoo  the 
bud'nash  ' — '  Bhuldoo  be  shot !'  sez  we.  '  'Tia 
a  woild  dissolute  pathan  frum  the  hills. 
There's  about  eight  av  'im  coercin'the  sahib. 
You  remimber  that  an'  you'll  get  another 
rupee!'  Then  we  heard  the  whop-whop- 
whop  av  the  hekka  turnin'  over,  an'  a  splash 
ov  water  an'  the  voice  nv  Benira  Tlirieg  call- 
in'  upon  God  to  forgive  his  sins — an'  Bhuldoo 
an'  'is  friends  squotterin'  in  the  water  like 
boys  in  the  Serpentine." 


TEE  THREE  MUSKETEERS.  11 

Here  the  three  musketeers  retired  simul- 
taneously into  the  beer. 

"  Well?     What  came  next?"  said  I. 

"  Fwhat  nex'?''  answered  Mulvaney,  wip- 
ing his  mouth.  "  Wud  you  let  three  bould 
sodger-blioys  lave  the  ornamint  av  the  House 
av  Lords  to  be  dhrowned  an'  dacoited  in  a 
jhil?  We  formed  line  av  quarther-column 
an'  we  desinded  U]ion  the  inimy.  For  the 
better  part  av  tin  minutes  you  coukl  not  hear 
yerself  spake.  The  tattoo  was  screamin'  in 
chune  wid  Benira  Thrigg  an'  Bhuldoo's 
army,  an'  the  shticks  was  whistlin'  roun'  the 
hekica,  an'  Orth'ris  was  beatin'  the  hekka- 
cover  wid  his  fistes,  an'  Learoyd  yellin': 
'Look  out  for  their  knives  !'  an'  me  cuttin' 
into  the  dark,  right  an'  lef,  dishpersin' 
arrmy  corps  av  pathans.  Holy  Mother  av 
^Moses !  'twas  more  disp'rit  than  Ahmid 
Kheyl  wid  Maiwund  thrown  in.  Afther 
awhile  Bhuldoo  an'  his  bhoys  flees.  Have 
ye  iver  seen  a  rale  live  lord  thryin'  to  hide 
his  nobility  undher  a  fut  an'  a  half  av  brown 
jhll  wather  ?  'Tis  the  livin'  image  av  a  bhistts 
mussick  wid  the  shivers.  It  tuk  toime  to  per- 
shuade  me  frind  Benira  he  was  not  disim- 
bowiled ;  an'  more  toime  to  get  out  the 
hekka.  The  dhriver  come  up  afther  the  bat- 
tle, swearin'  he  tuk  a  hand  in  repulsin'  the 
inimy.  Benira  was  sick  wid  the  fear.  We 
escorted  him  back,  very  slow,  to  canton- 
mints,  for  that  an'  the  chill  to  soak  into  him. 
It  suk!    Glory  be  to  the  rigimintil  saint. 


12  MULVAXEY  STORIE!^. 

but  it  ?uk  to  the  marrow  av  Lord  Benira 
Thrigg!" 

Here  Ortheris,  slowly,  with  immense 
pride:  " 'E  sez:  'You  har  my  noble  pre- 
servers,' sez  'e.  *  You  har  a  Aonor  to  the 
British  Harmy,'  sez  'e.  With  that  'e  de- 
scribes the  hawful  band  of  decoits  wot 
set  on  'im.  There  was  about  forty  of  'em 
an,  'e  was  hoverpowered  by  numbers,  so  'e 
was;  but  'e  never  lust  'is  presence  of  mind, 
so  'e  didn't.  'E  guv  the  hekka-driver  five 
rupees  for  'is  noble  hassistance,  an'  'e  said  'e 
would  see  to  us  after  'e  'ad  spoken  to  the 
kernul.  For  we  was  a  /ionor  to  the  regi- 
ment, we  was." 

"An'  we  three,"  said  Mulvaney,  with  a 
seraphic  smile,  "have  dhrawn  tl^e  par-ti- 
cu-lar  attinshin  av  Bobs  Bahadur  more 
than  wanst.  But  he's  a  rale  good  little 
man  is  Bobs.     Go  on,  Orth'ris,  me  son." 

"  Then  we  leaves  'im  at  the  kernul's  'ouse, 
werry  sick,  an'  we  cuts  over  to  B  Comp'ny 
barrick,  an'  we  sez  we  'ave  saved  Benira 
from  a  blood}'  doom,  an'  the  chances  was 
agin  there  bein'  p'raid  on  Thursday.  About 
ten  minutes  later  comes  three  envelicks, 
one  for  each  of  us.  S'elp  me  Bob,  if  the 
old  bloke  'adn't  guv  us  a  fiver  apiece — 
sixty-four  dibs  in  the  bazaar!  On  Thurs- 
daj'  'e  was  in  'orspital  recoverin'  from  's 
sanguinary  encounter  with  a  gang  of  pa- 
thans,  an'  B  Company  was  drinkin'  'em 
selves  inter  clink  by  squads.    So  there  never 


THE  THREE  3IUSKETEERS.  13 

was  no  Thursday  p'raid.  But  the  kernul, 
Avhen  'c  'eard  of  our  gallant  conduct,  'e  sez: 
*  Hi  know  there's  been  some  devilry  some- 
wheres,' scz 'e,  '  but  Hi  can't  bring  it  'ome 
to  you  three.' " 

"An'  my  privit  imprisshin  is,"  said  Mul- 
vane}',  getting  off  the  bar  and  turning  his 
glass  upside  down,  "that,  av  they  had 
known  they  wudn't  have  brought  ut  home. 
'Tis  flyin'  in  the  face,  firstly  av  Nature, 
second,  av  the  rig'lations,  an'  third,  the 
will  av  Terence  Mulvaney,  to  hold  p'rades 
av  Thursdays." 

"Good,  ma  son!"  said  Learoyd  ;  "but, 
young  mon,  what's  t'  note-book  for?" 

"  I.et  be,"  said  Mulvaney  ;  "  this  time  next 
month  we're  in  the  '  Sherapis.'  'Tis  immor- 
tal fame  the  gintleman's  goin'  to  give  us. 
But  kape  it  dhark  till  we're  out  av  the  range 
av  me  little  frind  Bobs  Bahadur." 

And  I  have  obeyed  Mulvaney 's  order. 


THE  TAKING  OF  LUNG- 
TUNGPEN. 

So  we  loosed  a  bloomin'  volley, 
An'  we  made  the  beggars  cut, 
An'  when  our  poncli  was  emptied  out, 
We  used  the  bloomin'  butt. 
Ho  !     My ! 

Don't  yer  come  anigb, 
"\Mien  Tommy  is  a-playin'  with  the  baynit  an'  the 
butt. — Barrack  Room  Ballad. 

My  friend  Private  Mulvaney  told  me  this, 
sitting  on  the  parapet  of  the  road  to  Dag- 
shai,  when  we  were  hunting  butterflies  to- 
gether. He  had  theories  about  the  army, 
and  colored  clay  pipes  perfectly.  He  said 
that  the  young  soldier  is  the  best  to  work 
with,  "  on  account  av  the  surpassin'  inno- 
cinse  av  the  child."' 

"Now,  listen!"  said  Mulvaney,  throwing 
himself  full  length  on  the  wall  in  the  sun. 
"  I'm  a  born  scutt  av  the  barrick-room ! 
The  army's  mate  an'  dhrink  to  me,  bekase 
I'm  wan  av  the  few  that  can't  quit  ut.  I've 
put  in  sivinteen  years,  an'  the  pipe-clay's 
in  the  marrow  av  me.  Av  I  cud  have  kept 
out  av  wan  big  dhrink  a  month,  I  wud  have 
been  a  hon'ry  lift'nint  by  this  time — a  nui- 
since  to  my  betthers,  a  laughin'-shtock  to 
my  equils,  an'  a  curse  to  meself.  Bein' 
(14) 


THE  TAKIXG  OF  LUXGTUXGPEX.  15 

fu'hat  I  am,  I'm  Privit  Mulvaney,  wid  no 
good-comluc'  ])ay  an'  a  devourin'  thirst. 
Always  barrin'  me  little  frind  Bobs  Baha- 
dur, I  know  as  much  about  the  army  as 
most  men." 

I  said  something  here. 

"Wolseleybe  shot!  Betune  you  an' me 
an'  that  butterfly  net,  he's  a  ramblin',  in- 
coherint  sort  av  a  divil,  wid  wan  oi  on  the 
quane  an'  the  coort,  an'  the  other  on  his 
blessed  silf — everlastin'ly  playing  Saysar 
an'  Alexandrier  rowled  into  n  lump.  Now 
Bobs  is  a  sinsible  little  man.  Wid  Bobs  an' 
a  few  three-year-olds,  I'd  swape  any  army 
av  the  eartii  into  a  jhainm,  an'  throw  it 
away  aftherward.  Faith,  I'm  not  jokin'I 
'Tis  the  bhoys — the  raw  bhoys— that  don't 
know  fwhat  a  bullut  manes,  an'  wudn't  care 
av  they  did — that  dhu  the  work.  They're 
crammed  wid  bull-mate  till  they  fairly  ramps 
wid  good  livin';  an'  thin,  av  they  don't 
fight,  they  blow  each  other's  bids  off.  'Tis 
the  trut'"  I'm  tellin'  you.  They  shud  be 
kept  on  dal-hhnt  an'  hifri  in  tbe  hot  weather; 
but  there'd  be  a  mutn'y  iv  'twas  done. 

"  Did  ye  iver  hear  how  Privit  Mulvaney 
tuk  the  "town  av  Lungtungpen?  I  thought 
not!  'Twas  the  lift'nint  got  the  credit;  but 
'twas  me  planned  the  schame.  A  little  be- 
fore I  was  inviladed  from  Burma,  me  an' 
four-an'-twinty  young  wans  undher  a  Lift'- 
nint Brazeno'se  was  ruinin'  our  dijeshins 
thryin'  to  catch  dacoits.     An'  such  double- 


16  MUL  VA XEY  STORIES. 

ended  divils  I  niver  knew !  'Tis  on!}'  a  dak 
an'  a  Snider  that  makes  a  dacoit.  Widout 
thim,  he's  a  paceful  cultivator,  an'  felony 
for  to  shoot.  We  hunted,  an'  we  hunted, 
an'  tuk  fever  an'  elephints  now  an'  again ; 
but  no  dacoits.  Evenshually,  we  puckaroived 
wan  man.  'Trate  him  tinderly,'  sez  the 
lift'nint.  So  I  tuk  him  away  into  the  jun- 
gle, wid  the  Burmese  interprut'r  an'  ray 
clanin'-rod.  Sez  I  to  the  man:  'My  paceful 
squireen,'  sez  I, '  you  shquot  on  your  hun- 
kers an'  dimonstrate  to  my  frind  here  where 
your  frinds  are  whin  they're  at  home?' 
Wid  that  I  introjuced  him  to  the  clanin'- 
rod,  and  he  comminst  to  jabber;  the  inter- 
prut'r interprutin'  in  betweens,  an'  me 
helpin'  the  intilligince  departmint  wid  my 
clanin'-rod  whin  the  man  misremimbered. 

"  Prisintly,  I  learnt  that,  acrost  the  river, 
about  nine  miles  away,  was  a  town  just 
dhrippin'  wid  dahs,  an'  bobs  an'  arrows,  an' 
dacoits,  an'  elephints,  an' jingles.  'Good!' 
sez  I.     '  This  office  will  now  close.' 

"That  night  I  went  to  the  lift'nint  an' 
communicates  ray  information.  I  never 
thought  much  of  Lift'nint  Brazenose  till 
that  night.  He  was  shtifF  wid  books  an' 
the-ouries,  an'  all  manner  av  thrimmin's 
no  manner  av  use.  'Town  did  ye  say?' 
sez  he.  'Accordin'  to  the  the-ouries  nv  war, 
we  shud  wait  for  reinforceraints.'  '  Faitli !' 
thinks  I,  '  we'd  betther  dig  our  graves  thin  ;' 
for  the   nearest    throops  was  up  to  their 


THE  TAKING  OF  LUXGTUXGPF.X.  17 

shtocks  in  the  marshe?  out  Mimbu  way. 
'But,'  says  the  lift'nir  ^  'since  'tis  a  speshil 
case,  I'll  make  an  excepshin.  We'll  visit 
this  Lungtungpen  to-night.' 

"The  bhoys  was  fairly  woikl  wid  deloight 
whin  I  tould  'em  ;  an'  by  this  an'  that,  they 
wint  through  the  jungle  like  buck  rabbits. 
About  midnight  we  come  to  the  shtrame 
which  I  had  clane  forgot  to  minshin  to  my 
orficer.  I  was  on,  ahead,  wid  four  bhoys, 
an'  I  thought  that  the  lift'nint  might  want 
to  the-ourize.  '  Shtrip,  bhoys  !'  sez  I.  '  Shtrip 
to  the  buff,  an'  shwim  in  where  glory  waits!' 
'But  I  can't  shwim  !' sez  two  av  thim.  'To 
think  I  should  live  to  hear  that  from  a  bhoy 
wid  a  board-school  edukashin  !'  sez  I.  'Take 
a  lump  av  timber,  an'  me  an'  Conolly  here 
will  ferry  ye  over,  ye  young  ladies!' 

'■  We  got  an  ould  tree-trunk,  an'  pushed 
off  wid  the  kits  an'  the  rifles  on  it.  The 
night  was  chokin'  dhark,  an'  just  as  we 
was  fairly  embarked,  I  heard  the  lift'nint 
behind  av  me  callin'  out.  '  There's  a  bit  av 
a  nullah  here,  soor,'  sez  I,  'but  I  can  feel  the 
bottom  already.'  So  I  cud,  for  I  was  not  a 
yard  from  the  bank. 

"  '  Bit  av  a  nullah  !  Bit  av  an  eshtuary  !' 
sez  the  lift'nint.  'Go  on,  ye  mad  Irishman  ! 
Shtrip  bhoys.'  I  heard  him  laugh;  an'  the 
bhoys  begun  shtrippin'  an'  rollin'  a  log  into 
the  wather  to  put  their  kits  on.  So  me  an' 
Conolly  shtruck  out  in  the  warm  wather  wid 
our  log,  an'  the  rest  come  on  behind. 
2 


1 8  MUL  VAXEY  STORIL^ 

"  That  shtrame  was  miles  woide  !  Orth*ris, 
on  the  rear-rank  lo^,  whispers  we  had  got 
into  the  Thames  below  Sheerness  by  mis- 
take. '  Kape  on  shwimmin',  ye  little  blay- 
guard,'  sez  I,  'an'  don't  go  pokin'your  dirty 
jokes  at  the  Irriwaddy.'  '  Silince,  men!* 
sings  out  the  lift'nint.  So  we  swum  on  into 
the  black  dhark,  wid  our  chests  on  the  logs, 
trustin'  in  the  saints  an'  the  luck  av  the 
British  army. 

"Evenshually  we  hit  ground — a  bit  av 
sand — an'  a  man.  I  put  my  heel  on  the 
back  av  him.     He  skreeched  an'  ran. 

" '  Now  we've  done  it !'  sez  Left'nint  Braze- 
nose.  'Where  the  divil  is  Lungtungpen?' 
There  was  about  a  minute  and  a  half  to  wait. 
The  bhoys  laid  a  hould  av  their  rifles  an' 
some  thried  to  put  their  belts  on ;  we  was 
marchin'  wid  fixed  baynits  av  course.  Thin 
we  knew  where  Lungtungpen  was ;  for  we 
had  hit  the  river-wall  av  it  in  the  dhark,  an' 
the  whole  town  blazed  wid  thim  messin' 
jingles  an'  Sniders  like  a  cat's  back  on  a 
frosty  night.  They  was  firin'  all  ways  at 
wanst,  but  over  our  heads  into  the  shtrame. 

"'Have  you  got  your  rifles?'  sez  Braze- 
nose.  '  Got  'em  !'  sez  Orth'ris.  '  I've  got  that 
thief  Mulvaney's  for  all  my  back  pay,  an' 
she'll  kick  my  heart  sick  wid  that  blunderin' 
long  shtock  av  hers.'  '  Go  on  !'  yells  Braze- 
noze,  whippin'  his  sword  out.  '  Go  on  an' 
take  the  town  I  An'  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 
our  sowls  1' 


THE  TAKING  OF  LUNGTUNGPEX.  19 

"  Thin  the  l)hoys  crave  one  divnstatin'  howl, 
an'  pranced  into  the  dhark,  feelin'  for  the 
town,  an'  blindin'  an'  stiffinin'  like  cavalry 
ridin'  masters  whin  the  grass  pricked  their 
bare  legs.  I  hannnered  wid  the  butt  at  some 
bamboo  thing  that  felt  wake,  an'  the  rest 
come  an'  hammered  contagious,  while  the 
jingles  was  jingling,  an'  feroshus  yells  from 
inside  was  spldittin'  our  ears.  We  was 
too  close  under  the  wall  for  thim  to  hurt  us. 

"  Evenshually  the  thing,  whatever  ut 
was,  bruk ;  an'  the  six-and-twinty  av  us 
tumbled,  wan  afther  the  other,  naked  as  we 
was  borrun,  into  the  town  of  Lungtungpen. 
There  was  a  meelly  av  a  sumpshus  kind  for 
a  whoile;  but  whether  they  tuk  us,  all  white 
an'  wet,  for  a  new  breed  av  divil,  or  a  new 
kind  av  dacoit,  I  don't  know.  They  ran  as 
though  we  were  both,  an' we  wint  into  thim, 
baynit  an'  butt,  shriekin'  wid  laughin'.  There 
was  torches  in  the  sthreets,  an'  I  saw  little 
Orth'ris  rubbin'  his  showlther  ivry  time  he 
loosed  my  long-sthock  Martini ;  an'  Braze- 
nose  walkin'  into  the  gang  wid  his  sword, 
like  Diarmid  av  the  Golden  Collar — barrin' 
he  hadn't  a  stitch  av  clothin'  on  him.  We 
diskivered  elephints  wid  dacoits  under  their 
bellies,  an',  what  wid  wan  thing  an'  another, 
we  was  busy  till  mornin'  takin'  possession 
av  the  town  of  Lungtungpen. 

"Thin  we  halted  an'  formed  up,  the  wim- 
men  howlin'  in  the  houses  an'  Lift'nint 
Brazenose  blushin'  pink  in  the  light  av  the 


20  JIZ^LVAXEY  STORIES. 

raornin'  sun.  'Twas  tlie  most  ondasint  p'rade 
I  iver  tuk  a  liand  in.  Foive-and-twinty 
privits  an'  a  orficer  av  the  line  in  review  or- 
dher,  an'  not  as  much  as  wud  dust  a  fife  be- 
tune  'em  all  in  the  way  av  clothin' !  Eight 
av  us  had  their  belts  an'  pouches  on  ;  but  the 
rest  had  gone  in  wid  a  handful  av  cartridges 
an'  the  skin  God  gave  thim.  They  was  as 
nakit  as  Vanus. 

'"Number  off  from  the  right!'  sez  the 
lift'nint.  'Odd  numbers  fall  out  to  dress; 
even  numbers  pathrol  the  town  till  relieved 
by  the  dressin'  parthy.'  Let  me  tell  you,  pa- 
throllin'  a  town  wid  nothin'  on  is  an  exjniy- 
rience.  I  pathrolled  for  tin  minutes,  an' be- 
gad, before  'twas  over,  I  blushed.  The 
women  laughed  so.  I  niver  blushed  before 
or  since  ;  but  I  blushed  all  over  my  carkiss 
thin.  Orth'ris  didn't  pathrol.  He  sez  only: 
*  Portsmith  Barricks  an' the  'Ard  av  a  Sun- 
day!' Thin  he  lay  down  an'  rowled  any- 
ways wid  laughin'. 

"  When  we  was  all  dhressed,  we  counted 
the  dead — sivinty-foive  dacoits,  besides 
wounded.  We  tuk  five  elephints,a  hunder' 
an'  sivinty  Sniders,  two  hunder'  dabs,  and  a 
lot  av  other  burglarious  thruck.  Not  a  man 
av  us  was  hurt — excep'  may  be  the  lift'nint, 
an'  he  from  the  shock  to  his  dasincy. 

"  The  headman  av  Lungtungpen,  who  sur- 
rinder'd  himself,  asked  the  interprut'r:  '  Av 
the  English  fight  like  that  wid  their  clo'es  off, 
what  in  the  wurruld  do  they  do  wid  their 


THE  TAKING  OF  LUNGTUXGrEX.  21 

clo'es  on  ?'  Orth'ris  began  rowlin' his  eyes 
an'  crackin'  his  fingers  an'  dancin'  a  step- 
dance  for  to  impress  the  headman.  He  ran 
to  his  house;  an' we  spint  the  rest  av  the 
day  carryin'  the  lift'nint  on  our  showhhers 
round  the  town,  an'  play  in'  wid  the  Bur- 
mese babies — fat,  Uttle,  brown  little  divils,  as 
pretty  as  pictures. 

"  Whin  I  was  inyiladed  for  the  dysent'ry 
to  India,  I  sez  to  the  lift'nint:  '  Sorr,'  sez  I, 
'you've  the  makin's  in  you  av  a  great  man  ; 
but,  av  you'll  let  an  ould  sodger  spake, 
you're  too  fond  of  the-ourisin'.'  He  sliuk 
hands  wid  me  and  sez  :  'Hit  high,  hit  lew, 
there's  no  plasin  you,  Mulvaney.  You've 
seen  me  waltzin'  througli  Lungtungpen  like 
a  Red  Injun  widout  the  war  paint,an'  you  say 
I'm  too  fond  av  the-ourisin'?'  'Sorr,'  sez  I, 
for  I  loved  the  bhoy,  '  I  wud  waltz  wid  you 
in  that  condishin  through  hell,  an 'so  wud  the 
rest  av  the  men  !'  Thin  I  wint  down-sthrame 
in  the  flat  an'  left  him  my  blessin'.  IMay 
the  saints  carry  ut  where  ut  shud  go,  for  he 
was  a  fine  upstandin'  young  orficer. 

"  To  reshume:  Fhwat  I've  said  jist  shows 
the  use  av  three-year-olds.  Wud  fifty  sea- 
soned sodgers  have  taken  Lungtungpen  in  the 
dhark  that  way?  No!  They'd  know  the 
risk  av  fever  an'  chill,  let  alone  the  shoot- 
in.'  Two  hunder'  might  have  done  ut.  But 
the  three-year-olds  know  little  an'  care  less  ; 
an'  where  there's  no  fear,  there's  no  danger. 
Catch  thim  young,  feed  thim  high,  an'  by 


22  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

the  honor  av  that  great,  little  man,  Bobs,  be- 
hind a  good  orficer  'tisn't  only  dacoits  they'd 
smash  wid  their  clo'es  off — 'tis  con-ti- 
nental  ar-r-r-r-mies  !  They  tuk  Lungtungpen 
nakid;  an'  they'd  take  St.  Pethersburg  in 
their  dhrawers!      Begad,  they  would  that! 

"  Here's  your  pipe,  sorr  !  Shmoke  her  tin- 
derly  wid  honey-dew,  afther  letting  the  reek 
av  the  canteen  plug  die  away.  But  'tis  no 
good,  thanks  to  you  all  the  same,  fiUin'  my 
pouch  wid  your  chopped  bhoosa.  Canteen 
baccy's  like  the  army.  It  shpoils  a  man's 
taste  for  moilder  things." 

So  saying,  Mulvaney  took  up  his  butter- 
fly-net/and  returned  to  barracks. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE 
REGIMENT. 

Jain  'Ardin'  was  a  Sarjint's  wife, 

A  Sarjint's  wife  wus  she. 
She  married  of  'im  in  Orldersbort 
An'  corned  acrost  tlie  sea. 
(Chorus)    'Ave  you  never  'eard  tell  o'  Jain  'Ardin'? 

Jain  'Ardin'? 
Jain  'Ardin'? 
'Ave  you  never  'eard  tell  'o  Jain  'Ardin'? 
The  pride  o'  the  C<inipane<?? 

Old  Barrack  Room  Ballad. 

"  A  GENTLEMAN  "u-ho  doesn't  know  the  Cir- 
cassian circle  ought  not  to  stand  up  for  it — 
puttin'  everybody  out."  That  was  what 
Miss  McKenna  said,  and  the  sergeant  who 
was  my  vis  a-vis  looked  the  same  thing.  I 
was  afraid  of  Miss  McKenna.  She  was  six 
feet  high,  all  yellow  freckles  and  red  hair, 
and  was  simply  clad  in  white  satin  shoes,  a 
pink  muslin  dress,  and  apple-green  stufif 
sash,  and  black  silk  gloves,  with  yellow  roses 
in  her  hair.  Wherefore  I  fled  from  Miss 
McKenna  and  sought  my  friend  Private  Mul- 
vanev  who  was  at  the  cant — refreshment- 
table. 

"  So  you've  been  dancin'  witli  little  Jhansi 
McKenna,  sorr — she  that's  goin'  to  marry 
Corp'ril  Slane  ?     Whin  you  next  conversh 

(23) 


24  MUL  VAXE  Y  STORIES. 

wid  your  lorruds  an'  your  ladies,  tell  thim 
you'Ve  danced  wid  little  Jhansi.  'Tis  a 
thing  to  be  proud  av." 

But  I  wasn't  proud.  I  was  humble.  I 
saw  a  story  in  Private  Mulvaney's  eye ;  and, 
besides,  if  he  stayed  too  long  at  the  bar,  he 
would,  I  knew,  qualify  for  more  pack-drill. 
Now  to  meet  an  esteemed  friend  doing  pack- 
drill  outside  the  guard-room  is  embarrass- 
ing, especially  if  you  happen  to  be  walking 
with  his  commanding-officer. 

"  Come  on  to  the  parade-ground,  Mul- 
vaney,  it's  cooler  there,  and  tell  me  about 
Miss"  McKenna.  What  is  she,  and  who  is 
she,  and  why  is  she  called  'Jhansi'?" 

"  D'ye  mane  to  say  3'ou've  niver  heard  av 
ould  Pummeloe's  daughter  ?  An'  you  think- 
in'  you  know  things  !  I'm  wid  ye  in  a  min- 
ut'  whin  me  poipe's  lighted." 

We  came  out  under  the  stars.  Mulvaney 
sat  down  on  one  of  the  artillery  bridges  and 
began  in  the  usual  way,  his  pipe  between  his 
teeth,  his  big  hands  clasped  and  droj)ped 
between  his  knees,  and  his  cap  well  back  on 
his  head. 

"  Whin  Mrs.  Mulvaney,  that  is,  was  Miss 
Shad  that  was,  you  were  a  dale  3'ounger  than 
you  are  now,  an'  the  army  was  dift'rint  in 
sev'ril  e-senshuls.  Bhoys  have  no  call  for 
to  marry  nowadays,  an'  that's  why  the  army 
has  so  few  rale,  good,  honust.  swearin'  strap- 
agin',  tinder-hearted,  heavy-futted  wives  as 
ut  used  to  have  whin  I  was  a  cor'pril.     I 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  REGIMENT.      25 

was  reJLiced  afterward — but  no  niatther — I 
was  a  cor'pril  "wanst.  In  thim  times  a  man 
lived  an'  died  wid  liis  rigimint;  an'  by  na- 
tur',  he  married  whin  he  was  a  man.  Whin 
I  was  cor'pril — Mother  av  Hivin,  how  the 
rigimint  has  died  an'  beenborrun  since  that 
day — my  color-sar'jint  was  ould  McKenna, 
an'  a  married  man  tu.  An'  his  woife — his 
first  woife,  for  he  married  three  times  did 
^McKenna — was  Bridget  McKenna,  from 
Portarlington,  like  mesilf.  I've  misremem- 
bered  fwhat  her  first  name  was ;  but  in  B 
Comp'ny  we  called  her  'Ould  Pummeloe' 
by  reason  av  her  figure,  which  was  entirely 
cir-cum-fe-renshil.  Like  the  big  dhrum ! 
Now  that  woman — God  rock  hersowl  to  rest 
in  glory — was  for  everlastin'  bavin'  child- 
her ;  an'  McKenna,  whin  the  fifth  or  sixth 
come  squallin'  on  to  the  musther  roll,  swore 
he  wud  number  them  off  in  the  future.  But 
ould  Pummeloe  she  prayed  av  him  to  chris- 
ten thim  afther  the  names  of  the  stations 
they  was  borrun  in.  So  there  was  Colaba 
McKenna,  an'  Muttra  McKenna,  an'  a  whole 
presidincy  av  other  McKennas,  an'  little 
Jhansi,  dancin'  over  yonder.  Whin  the 
children  wasn't  bornin',  they  was  dyin';  for, 
av  our  childer  die  like  sheep  in  these  days, 
they  died  like  flies  thin.  I  lost  me  own  lit- 
tle Shad — but  no  matther.  'Tis  long  ago, 
and  Mrs.  Mulvaney  niver  had  another. 

"  I'm  digresshin'.     Wan  divil's  hot  sum- 
mer there  come  an  order  from  some  mad 


26  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

ijjit,  whose  name  I  raisremember,  for  the  rig- 
imint  to  go  up-country.  ISIay  be  they  wanted 
to  know^  liow  the  new  rail  carried  throops. 
They  kncAV !  On  me  sowl,  they  knew  before 
they  was  done!  Ould  Pummeloe  had  just 
buried  Muttra  McKenna ;  an'  the  season  be- 
in'  onwholesinijOnly  little  Jhansi  McKenna, 
who  was  four  years  ould  thin,  was  left  on 
hand. 

"  Five  children  gone  in  fourteen  months. 
'Twas  harrd,  wasn't  ut? 

"  So  we  wint  up  to  our  new  station  in  that 
blazin'  heat — may  the  curse  av  Saint  Law- 
rence conshume  the  man  w^ho  gave  the  or- 
dher!  Will  I  ivir  forgit  that  move?  They 
gave  us  tAvo  wake  thrains  to  the  rigimint ;  an' 
we  was  eight  hunder'  and  sivinty  strong. 
There  was  A,  B,  C  an'  D  Comp'nies  in  the 
secon'  thrain,  wid  twelve  women,  no  orficers* 
ladies,  an'  thirteen  childher.  We  was  to  go  six 
hunder'  miles,  an'  railways  was  new  in  thim 
days.  Whin  we  had  been  a  night  in  the 
belly  av  the  thrain — the  men  ragin'  in  their 
shirts  an'  dhrinkin'  anything  they  cud  find, 
an'  eatin'  bad  fruitstuff  whin  they  cud,  for 
we  cudn't  stop  'em — I  was  a  cor'pril  thin 
— the  cholera  bruk  out  wid  the  dawnin'  av 
the  day. 

"  Pray  to  the  saints,  you  may  niver  see 
cholera  in  a  throop-thrain !  'Tis  like  the 
judgmint  av  God  hittin'  down  from  the 
nakid  sky!  We  run  into  a  rest-camp — as  ut 
might  have  been  Ludianny,  but  not  by  any 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  REGIMENT.      27 

means  so  comfortable.  The  orficer  com- 
mandin'  sent  a  telegrapt  up  the  line,  three 
hunder'  mile  up,  askin'  for  help.  Faith,  we 
wanted  ut,  for  ivry  sowl  av  the  followers  ran 
forthe  dear  life  as  soon  as  the  thrain  stopped; 
an'  by  the  time  that  telegrapt  was  writ,  there 
wasn't  a  naygur  in  the  station  exceptin'  the 
telegrapt  clerk — an'  he  only  bekaze  he  was 
held  down  to  his  chair  by  the  scruff  av  his 
sneakin'  black  neck.  Thin  the  day  began 
wid  the  noise  in  the  carri'ges,  an'  the  rattle 
av  the  men  on  the  platform  fallin'  over,  arms 
an'  all,  as  they  stud  for  to  answer  the  com- 
p'ny  muster-roll  before  goin'  over  to  the 
camp.  'Tisn't  for  me  to  say  what  like  the 
cholera  was  like.  May  be  the  doctor  cud  ha' 
tould,  avhe  hadn't  dropped  on  to  the  plat- 
form from  the  door  av  a  carri'ge  where  he 
was  takin'  out  the  dead.  He  died  wid  the 
rest.  Some  bho^'s  had  died  in  the  night. 
We  tuk  out  sivin,  an'  twinty  more  was  sick- 
enin'  as  we  tuk  thim.  The  women  was  hud- 
dled up  any  ways,  screamin'  wid  fear. 

'■  Sez  the  commandin'  orficer,  whose  name 
I  misremember :  '  Take  the  women  over  to 
that  tope  av  trees  yonder.  Get  thim  out  av 
the  camp.     'Tis  no  place  for  thim.' 

"  Ould  Pummeloe  was  sittin'  on  her  bed- 
din'-rowl,  thryin'to  kape  little  Jhansi  quiet. 
'Gooff  to  that  tope!'  sez  the  orficer.  'Go 
out  av  the  men's  way  !' 

"  '  Be  damned  av  I  do  !'  sez  ould  Pum- 
meloe, an'  little  Jhansi,  squattin'  by   her 


28  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

mother's  side, squeaks  out:  '  Be  damned  av 
I  do,'  tu.  Then  ould  Pummeloe  turns  to 
the  women  an'  she  sez :  '  Are  ye  goin'  to  let 
the  bhoys  die  while  you're  picnickin',  ye 
sluts?'  sez  she.  ' 'Tis  wather  they  want. 
Come  on  an'  help.' 

"  Wid  that,  she  turns  up  her  sleeves  an' 
steps  out  for  a  well  behind  the  rest-cani]) — 
little  Jhansi  trottin'  behind  wid  a  loUih  an' 
string,  an'  the  other  women  followin'  like 
lambs,  wid  horse-buckets  and  cookin'  deg- 
chies.  Whin  all  the  things  was  full,  ould 
Pummeloe  marches  back  into  camp — 'twas 
like  a  battle-field  wid  all  the  glory  missin' — 
at  the  hid  av  the  rigimint  av  women. 

" '  McKenna,  me  man !'  she  sez,  wid  a 
voice  on  her  like  grand-roun's  challenge, 
'  tell  the  bhoys  to  be  quiet.  Ould  Pum- 
meloe's  a-comin'  to  look  afther  thim — wid 
free  d brinks.' 

"  Thin  we  cheered,  an'  the  cheerin'  in 
the  lines  was  louder  than  the  noise  av 
the  poor  divils  wid  the  sickness  on  thim. 
But  not  much. 

"  You  see,  we  was  a  new  an'  raw  rigi- 
mint in  those  days,  an'  we  cud  make 
neither  head  nor  tail  av  the  sickness;  an' 
so  we  was  useless.  The  men  was  goin' 
roun'  an'  about  like  dumb  sheep,  waitin' 
for  the  nex'  man  to  fall  over,  an'  sayin' 
undher  their  spache :  '  Fwhat  is  ut?  In  the 
name  av  God,  fwhat  is  ut?'  'Twas  horrible. 
But  through  ut  all,  up  an'  down,  an'  down 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  EEGIJilEXT.      29 

an'  up,  wint  ould  Pummeloe  an'  little 
Jhansi — all  we  cud  see  av  the  baby,  undher  a 
dead  man's  helmet  wid  the  chin-strap  swing- 
in'  about  her  little  stummick — up  an'  down 
wid  the  water  an'  fwhat  brandy  there  was. 

"  Now  an' thin  ould  Pummerloe,  the  tears 
runnin'  down  her  fat,  red  face,  sez:  'Me 
bhoys,  me  poor,  dead  darlin'  bhoys!'  But, 
for  the  most,  she  was  thryin'  to  put  heart 
into  the  men  an'  kape  thim  stidd}^ ;  an' 
little  Jhansi  was  tellin'  thim  all  they  wud 
be  '  betther  in  the  mornin'.'  *Twas  a  thrick 
she'd  picked  up  from  hearin'  old  Pum- 
meloe whin  Muttra  was  burnin'  out  wid 
fever.  In  the  mornin'!  'Twas  the  iver- 
lastin'  mornin'  at  St.  Peter's  Gate  w^as  the 
mornin'  for  sivin-an'-twinty  good  men;  an' 
twinty  more  was  sick  to  the  death  in  that 
bitter,  burnin'  sun.  But  the  women  worked 
like  angils,  as  I've  said,  an'  the  men  like 
divils,  till  two  doctors  come  dow^n  from 
above,  an'  we  was  rescued. 

"  But,  just  before  that,  ould  Pummeloe, 
on  her  knees  over  a  bhoy  in  my  squad — 
right-cot  man  he  was  to  me  in  the  bar- 
rick — tellin'  him  the  wurrud  av  the  Church 
that  niver  failed  a  man  yet,  sez ;  '  Hould  me 
up,  bhoys!  I'm  feelin'  bloody  sick!'  'Twas 
the  sun,  not  the  cholera,  did  ut.  She  mis- 
remembered  she  was  only  wearin'  her  ould 
black  bonnet,  an'  she  died  wid  '  McKenna, 
me  man,'  houldin'  her  up,  an'  the  bhoys 
howled  whin  they  buried  her. 


30  MULVANEY  STOEIES. 

"  That  night,  a  big  wind  blew,  an'  blew, 
an'  blew  the  tents  flat.  But  it  blcAv  the 
cholera  away,  an'  niver  another  case  there 
was  all  the  while  Ave  was  waitin' — ten  days 
in  qiiarintin'.  Av  you  will  belave  me,  the 
thrack  of  the  sickness  in  the  camp  was  fur 
all  the  worruld  the  thrack  of  a  man  walkin' 
four  times  in  a  figur'-av-eight  through  the 
tents.  They  say  'tis  the  Wandherin'  Jew 
takes  the  cholera  wid  him.     I  believe  ut. 

"An'  that,"  said  Mulvaney,  illogically,  "is 
the  cause  why  little  Jhansi  McKenna  is  iwhat 
she  is.  She  was  brought  up  by  the  quarter- 
master sarjint's  wife  whin  McKenna  died, 
but  she  belongs  to  B  Comp'ny ;  an'  this  tale 
I'm  tellin'  you — wid  a  proper  appreciashin 
av  Jhansi  McKenna — I've  belted  into  ivry 
recruity  av  the  comp'ny  as  he  was  drafted. 
Faith,  'twas  me  belted  Corp'ril  Slane  into 
askin'  the  gurl!" 
"Not  really?" 

"  Man,  I  did !  She's  no  beauty  to  look 
at,  but  she's  old  Pummeloe's  daughter,  an' 
'tis  my  juty  to  provide  for  her.  Just  before 
Slane  got  his  wan-eight  a  day,  I  sez  to  him: 
'Slane,'  sez  I,  'to-morrow  'twill  be  insubor- 
dinashin  av  me  to  chastise  you;  but,  by  the 
sowl  av  ould  Pummeloe,  who  is  now  in  glory, 
av  you  don't  give  me  your  worrud  to  ask 
Jhansi  McKenna  at  wanst,  I'll  peel  the  flesh 
off  yer  bones  wid  a  brass  huk  to-night.  'Tis 
a  dishgrace  to  B  Comp'ny  she's  been  single 
so  long!'  sez  I.     Was  I  goin'  to  let  a  three- 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  REGIMENT.       31 

year-onld  preshume  to  discoorse  wid  me,  my 
will  bein'set?  No!  Slane  wint  an' asked 
her.  He's  a  good  bhoy  is  Slane.  Wan  av 
these  days  he'll  get  into  the  com'ssariat  an' 
dhrive  a  boggy  wid  his — savin's.  So  I  pro- 
vided for  ould  Pummeloe's  daughter;  an' 
now  you  go  along  an'  dance  agin  wid  her." 

And  I  did. 

I  felt  a  respect  for  Miss  Jhansi  McKenna ; 
and  I  went  to  her  wedding  later  on. 

Perhaps  I  will  tell  you  about  that  one  of 
these  days. 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE. 

Hit  a  man  an'  help  a  woman,  an'  ye  can't  be  far 
wrong  any  ways. 

Maxims  of  Private  Mulvaney. 

The  Inexpressibles  gave  a  ball.  They  bor- 
rowed a  seven-pounder  from  the  Gunners, 
and  wreathed  it  with  laurels,  and  made  the 
dancing-floor  plate-glass,  and  provided  a 
supper,  the  like  of  which  had  never  been 
eaten  before,  and  set  two  sentries  at  the  door 
of  the  room  to  hold  the  trays  and  programme 
cards.  My  friend.  Private  Mulvaney,  was 
one  of  the  sentries,  because  he  was  the  tall- 
est man  in  the  regiment.  When  the  dance 
was  ftiirly  started  the  sentries  were  released, 
and  Private  Mulvaney  fled  to  curry  favor 
with  the  mess  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  sup- 
per. Whether  the  mess  sergeant  gave  or 
Mulvaney  took,  I  cannot  say.  All  that  I  am 
certain  of  is  tliat,  at  supper  time,  I  found 
Mulvaney  with  Private  Ortheris,  two-thirds 
of  a  ham,  a  loaf  of  bread,  half  a  pate  de  foie 
gras,  and  two  magnums  of  champagne,  sit- 
ting on  the  roof  of  my  carriage.  As  I  came 
up  I  heard  him  saying: 

"  Praise  be  a  danst  doesn't  come  as  often 
as  ord'ly-room,  or,  by  this  an'  that,  Orth'ris, 
tne  son.  I  wud  be  the  dishgrace  av  the  rig'- 
(32) 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  33 

mint  instid  av  the  brightest  jool  in  uts 
crown." 

^^Hand  the  colonel's  pet  noosince,"  said 
Ortheris,  who  w^as  a  Londoner.  "  But  wot 
makes  you  curse  your  rations?  This  'ere 
fizzy  stufi''s  good  enough." 

"  Stuff,  ye  oncivilized  pagin  !  'Tis  cliam- 
pagne  we're  dhrinkin'  now.  'Tisn't  that  I 
am  set  ag'in.  'Tis  the  quare  stuft'  wid  the 
little  bits  av  black  leather  in  it.  I  misdoubt 
I  will  be  distressin'ly  sick  wid  it  in  the 
mornin'.     Fwhatisut?" 

"  Goose  liver,"  I  said,  climbing  on  tlie  top 
of  the  carriage,  for  I  knew  that  it  was  l^etter 
to  sit  out  with  Mulvaney  than  to  dance 
many  dances. 

"Goose  liver,  is  ut?"  said  Mulvaney. 
"  Faith,  I'm  thinkin'  thim  that  makes  it  wud 
do  betther  to  cut  up  the  colonel.  He  car- 
ries a  power  av  liver  undher  his  right  arrumi 
whin  the  days  are  warm  an'  the  nights  chill. 
He  wud  give  thim  tons  an'  tons  av  liver. 
'Tis  he  sez  so.  '  I'm  all  liver  to-day,'  sez  he : 
an'  wid  that  he  ordhers  me  ten  days  C.  B. 
for  as  moild  a  dhrink  as  iver  a  good  sodger 
tuk  betune  his  teeth." 

"  That  was  when  'e  wanted  for  to  wash 
'isself  in  the  fort  ditch,"  Ortheris  explained. 
"Said  there  wa^s  too  much  beer  in  the  bar- 
rack water-butts  for  a  God-fearing  man. 
You  was  lucky  in  gittin'  orf  with  wot  you 
did,  Mulvaney!" 

"  You  say  so  ?  Now  I'm  pershuaded  I 
3 


34  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

was  cruel  hard  trated,  seein'  fwhat  I've  done 
for  the  likes  av  him  in  the  days  whin  my 
■eyes  were  wider  opin  than  they  are  now. 
Man  alive,  for  the  colonel  to  whip  me  on  the 
peg  in  that  way!  Me  that  have  saved  the 
repitation  av  a  ten  times  better  man  than 
him!  'Twas  ne-farious,  an'  that  manes  a 
power  av  evil!" 

"  Never  mind  the  nefariousness,"  I  said. 
^'  Whose  reputation  did  you  save  ?" 

"  More's  the  pity,  'twasn't  my  own,  but  I 
tuk  more  trouble  wid  ut  than  av  ut  was. 
'Twas  just  my  way,  messin'  wid  fwaht  was 
no  business  av  mine.  Hear  now!"  He  set- 
tled himself  at  ease  on  the  top  of  the  car- 
riage. "  I'll  tell  you  all  about  ut.  Av  coorse 
I  will  name  no  names,  for  there's  wan  that's 
an  orf 'cer's  lady  now,  that  was  in  ut,  an'  no 
more  will  I  name  places,  for  a  man  is 
thracked  by  a  place." 

"  Eyah  !"  said  Ortheris,  lazily,  "  but  this 
is  a  mixed  story  wot's  comin'." 

"  Wanst  upon  a  time,  as  the  childer-books 
say,  I  was  a  recruity." 

*'  Was  you,  though  ?"  said  Ortheris ;  "  now 
that's  extryordinary !" 

"  Orth'ris,"  said  Mulvaney,  "  av  you  opin 
thim  lips  av  yours  again,  I  will,  savin'  your 
presince,  sorr,  take  you  by  the  slack  av  your 
trousers  an'  heave  you." 

"  I'm  mum,"  said  Ortheris.  "  Wot  'ap- 
pened  when  you  was  a  recruit}  ?" 

"  I  was  a  betther  recruity  than  you  iver 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  85 

was  or  will  be,  but  that's  neither  here  non 
there.  Thin  I  became  a  man,  an'  the  divil 
of  a  man  I  was  fifteen  years  ago.  They 
called  me  Buck  Mulvaney  in  thim  days, 
an',  begad,  I  tuk  a  woman's  eye.  I  did 
that!  Ortheris,  ye  scrub,  fwhat  are  ye 
sniggerin'  at?     Do  you  misdoubt  me?" 

"  Divil  a  doubt !"  said  Ortheris  ;  "  but  I've 
'card  summat  like  that  before." 

Mulvaney  dismissed  the  impertinence 
with  a  lofty  wave  of  his  hand  and  con- 
tinued : 

"An'  the  orf'cers  av  the  rig'mint  I  was  in 
in  thim  days  was  orfcers — gran'  men,  wid 
a  manner  on  'em,  an'  a  way  wid  'em  such 
as  is  not  made  these  days — all  but  wan — 
wan  o'  the  capt'ns.  A  bad  dhrill,  a  wake 
voice,  an'  a  limp  leg — thim  three  things 
are  the  signs  av  a  bad  man.  You  bear  that 
in  3^our  hid,  Orth'ris,  me  son. 

"An' the  colonel  av  the  rig'mint  had  a 
daughter — wan  av  thim  lamb-like,  bleatin', 
pick  -  me-up  -  an'-  carr_y-me  -or  -I'll  -  die  gurls 
such  as  was  made  for  the  nat'ral  prey  av  men 
like  the  capt'n  who  was  iverlastin'  payin' 
coort  to  her,  though  the  colonel  he  said  time 
an'  over,  '  Kape  out  av  the  brute's  way,  my 
dear.'  But  he  niver  had  the  heart  for  to 
send  her  away  from  the  throuble,  bein'  as 
he  was  a  widower,  an'  she  their  wan  child." 

"  Stop  a  minute,  Mulvaney,"  said  I ;  "  how 
in  the  world  did  you  come  to  know  these 
things  ?" 


36  M  UL  VA  NE  Y  STORIES. 

"  Kow  did  I  come  ?"'  said  Mulvaney,  with 
a  scornful  crrunt ;  "  bekase  I'm  turned  durin' 
the  quane's  pleasure  to  a  lump  av  wood, 
lookin'  out  straight  forninst  me,  wid  a — 
a — candelabbrum  in  me  hand,  for  you  to 
pick  your  cards  out  av,  must  I  not  see  nor 
feel  ?  Av  coorse  I  do !  Up  my  back,  an'  in 
my  boots,  an'  in  the  short  hair  av  the  neck 
— that's  where  I  kape  nie  eyes  whin  I'm  on 
duty  and  the  reg'larwans  are  fixed.  Know! 
Take  me  word  for  it,  sorr,  ivry thing  an'  a 
grate  dale  more  is  known  in  a  rig' mint;  or 
fwhat  wud  be  the  use  av  a  mess  sarjint,  or 
a  sarjint's  wife  doin'  wet  nurse  to  the 
major's  baby?  To  reshume.  He  was  a 
bad  dhrill,  was  this  capt'n — a  rotten  bad 
dhrill — an'  whin  first  I  ran  me  eye  over 
him,  I  sez  to  myself:  '  Me  militia  bantam  !' 
I  sez,  '  me  cock  av  a  Gosport  dunghill ' — 
'twas  from  Portsmouth  he  came  to  us — 
'there's  combs  to  be  cut,'  sez  I,  'an'  by  the 
grace  av  God,  'tis  Terence  Mulvaney  will 
cut  thini.' 

"So  he  wint  menowderin',  an'  minan- 
derin',  an'  blandandhering  roun'  an'  about 
the  colonel's  daughter,  an'  she,  poor  inno- 
cint,  lookin'  at  him  like  a  comm'ssariat 
bullock  looks  at  the  comp'ny  cook.  He'd 
a  dhirty  little  scrub  av  a  black  mustache, 
an'  he  twisted  an'  turned  ivry  wurrd  he 
used  as  av  he  found  ut  too  sweet  for  to 
spit  out.  Eyah!  He  was  a  tricky  man  an' 
a  liar  by  natur'.    Some  are  born  so.   He  was 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  37 

wan.  I  knew  he  was  over  his  belt  in  money 
borrowed  from  natives;  besides  a  lot  av 
other  mathers  which,  in  regard  to  your 
presince,  sorr,  I  will  oblitherate.  A  little  av 
fwat  I  knew,  the  colonel  knew,  for  he  wud 
have  none  av  him,  an'  that,  I'm  thinkin', 
by  fwhat  happened  aftherAvards,  the  capt'n 
knew. 

"  Wan  day,  bein'  mcrtial  idle,  or  they  wud 
never  ha'  thried  ut,  the  rig'mint  gave  am- 
shure  theatricals — orfcers  an' orf'cers' ladies. 
You've  seen  the  likes  time  an'  agin,  sorr,  an' 
poor  fun  'tis  for  them  that  sit  in  the  back 
row  an'  stamp  wid  their  boots  for  the  honor 
av  the  rig'mint.  I  Avas  told  ofi'  for  to  shif 
the  scenes,  haulin'  up  this  an'  draggin' 
down  that.  Light  work  ut  was,  Avid  lashins 
av  beer  an'  the  gurl  that  dhressed  the  orf'- 
cers' ladies  .  .  .  but  she  died  in  Aggra 
twelve  years  gone,  an'  my  tongue's  gettin' 
the  better  aA'  me.  They  was  actin'  a  play 
thing  called  '  SAveethearts,'  Avhich  you  may 
ha'  heard  av,  an'  the  colonel's  daughter  she 
was  a  lady's-maid.  The  capt'n  was  a  boy 
called  Broom — Spread  Broom  Avas  his  name 
in  the  play.  Thin  I  saw — ut  come  out  in  the 
actin' — fwhat  I  niver  saAv  before,  an'  that 
jvas  that  he  Avas  no  gentleman.  They  was 
too  much  together,  thim  tAvo,  a-whispherin' 
behind  the  scenes  I  shifted,  an'  some  av 
what  they  said  I  heard  ;  for  I  Avas  death — 
blue  death  an'  ivy — on  the  comb-cuttin'. 
He  was  iverlastin'ly  oppressing  her  to  fall  in 


38  21 UL  VANE Y  S TORIES 

wid  some  sneakin'  schame  av  his,  an'  she 
was  thryin'  to  stand  out  ag'inst  him,  but 
not  as  though  she  was  set  in  her  will.  I 
wonder  now  in  thim  days  that  my  ears 
did  not  grow  a  yard  on  me  head  wid  list'- 
nin'.  But  I  looked  straight  forninst  me,  an' 
hauled  up  this,  an'  dragged  down  that,  such 
as  was  my  duty,  an'  the  orPcers'  ladies  sez 
one  to  another,  thinkin'  I  was  out  av  listen- 
reach  :  '  Fwhat  an  obligin'  young  man  is 
this  Corp'ril  Mulvaney !'  I  was  a  corp'ril 
then.  I  was  rejuced  aftherward,  but,  no 
matther,  I  was  a  corp'ril  wanst. 

'' Well,  this  'Sweethearts'  '  business  wint 
on  like  most  amshure  theatricals,  an'  barrin' 
fwat  I  suspicioned,  'twasn'ttill  the  dhress-re- 
hearsal  that  I  saw  for  certain  that  thim  two — 
he  the  blackguard,  an'  she  no  wiser  than  she 
should  ha'  been — had  put  up  an  evasion." 

"A  what?"  said  I. 

"  E-vasion !  Fwat  you  lorruds  an'  ladies 
call  an  elopement.  E-vasion  I  calls  it,  be- 
kaze,  exceptin'  whin  'tis  right  an'  natural 
an'  proper  'tis  wrong  an'  dhirty  to  steal  a 
man's  wan  child  not  knowin'  her  own  mind. 
There  was  a  sarjint  in  the  comm'ssariat  who 
set  my  face  upon  e-vasions.  I'll  tell  you 
about  that — " 

"Stick  to  the  bloomin'  captains,  Mul- 
vaney," said  Ortheris ;  "  comm'ssariat  sar- 
jints  is  low." 

Mulvaney  accepted  the  emendation  and 
went  on : 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  39 

"  Now,  I  knew  that  the  colonel  was  no  fool^ 
any  more  than  me,  for  I  was  hild  the  smart- 
est man  in  the  rig'mint,  an'  the  colonel  was 
■  the  best  orf'cer  commandin'  in  Asia;  so 
fwhat  he  said  an'  I  said  was  a  mortial  truth. 
We  knew  that  the  capt'n  was  bad,  but,  for 
reasons  which  I  have  already  oblitherated,  I 
knew  more  than  me  colonel.  I  wud  ha' 
rolled  out  his  fece  wid  the  butt  av  me  gun 
before  permittin'  av  him  to  steal  the  gurL 
Saints  knew  av  he  wud  ha'  married  her,  an' 
av  he  didn't  she  would  be  in  great  tormint,. 
an'  the  divil  av  Avhatyou,  sorr,  call  a  'scan- 
dal.' But  I  niver  sthruck,  niver  raised  me 
hand  on  me  shuperior  orf ^cer  ;  an'  that  was. 
a  merricle  now  I  come  to  considher  it." 

"  Mulvaney,the  dawn's  risin',"  said  Orthe- 
ris,  "  an'  we're  no  nearer  'ome  than  we  was 
at  the  beginnin'.  Lend  me  your  pouch. 
Mine's  all  dust." 

Mulvaney  pitched  his  pouch  across,  and 
he  filled  his  pipe  afresh, 

"  So  the  dhress-rehearsal  came  to  an  end^ 
an',  bekaze  I  was  curious,  I  stayed  behind 
whin  the  scene-shiftin'  was  ended,  an'  I 
shud  ha'  been  in  barricks,  lyin'  as  flat  as  a 
toad  under  a  painted  cottage  thing.  They 
was  talkin'  in  whispers,  an'  she  was  shiver- 
in'  an'  gaspin'  like  a  fresh-hukked  fish.  '  Are 
you  sure  you've  got  the  hang  av  the  manew- 
vers?'  sez  he,  or  wurrds  to  that  effec',  as  the 
coort-martial  sez.  'Sure  as  death,' sez  she, 
*but  I    misdoubt  'tis    cruel    hard    on  my 


40  M  UL  VANEV  STORIES. 

father.'  *  Damn  your  father,'  sez  he,  or  any- 
ways 'twas  fwat  he  thought, '  the  arrangement 
is  as  clear  as  mud.  Jungi  will  drive  the  car- 
ri'ge  afther  all's  over,  an'  you  come  to  the 
station,  cool  an'  aisy,  in  time  for  the  two- 
o'clock  thrain,  where  I  will  be  wid  your  kit.' 
'  Faith,' thinks  I  to  myself, 'thin  there's  a 
ayah  in  the  business,  tu  !' 

"A  powerful  bad  thing  is  a  ayah.  Don't 
you  niver  have  any  thruck  wid  wan.  Thin 
he  began  sootherin'  her,  an'  all  the  orf'cers 
an'  orf'cers'  ladies  left,  an'  they  put  out  the 
lights.  To  explain  the  theory  av  the  flight,  as 
they  say  at  muskthry,  you  must  understand 
that  afther  this  '  Sweethearts'  *  nonsinse  was 
ended  there  was  another  little  bit  av  a  play 
called  'Couples' — some  kind  av  couple  or 
another.  The  gurl  was  actin'  in  this,  but  not 
the  man.  I  suspicioned  he'd  go  to  the  station 
wid  the  gurl's  kit  at  the  end  av  the  first  piece. 
'Twas  the  kit  that  flusthered  me, for  I  knew  for 
a  capt'n  to  go  trapesing  about  the  impire  wid 
the  Lord  knew  what  av  a  truso  on  his  arrum 
was  nefarious,  an'  wud  be  worse  than  easin' 
the  flag,  so  far  as  the  talk  aftherward  wint." 

"  '  Old  on,  Mulvaney.  Wot's  truso .?"  said 
Ortheris. 

"You're  an  oncivilized  man,  me  son. 
Whin  a  gurl's  married,  all  her  kit  an'  'cou- 
tremonts  are  truso,  which  manes  weddin'- 
portion.  An'  'tis  the  same  whin  she's  run- 
nin'  away,  even  wid  the  biggest  blackguard 
on  the  arrmy  list. 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  41 

"  So  I  made  my  plan  av  campaign.  The 
colonel's  house  was  a  good  two  miles  away. 
'Dennis,'  sez  I  to  me  color-sarjint, '  av  you 
love  me  lend  me  your  kyart,  for  me  heart  is 
bruk  an'  me  feet  is  sore  wid  trampin'  to  an' 
from  this  foolishness  at  the  Gafi' '  An' 
Dennis  lent  ut,  wid  a  rampin',  stampin'  red 
stallion  in  the  shafts.  Whin  they  was  all 
settled  down  to  their  '  Sweethearts  '  for  the 
first  scene,  which  was  a  long  wan,  I  slips  out- 
side an' into  the  kyart.  Mother  avHivin! 
but  I  made  that  horse  walk,  an'  we  came 
into  the  colonel's  compound  as  the  divil 
wint  through  Athlone — in  standin'  leps. 
There  was  no  one  there  except  the  servints, 
an'  I  wint  round  to  the  back  an'  found  the 
girl's  ayah. 

" '  Ye  black  brazen  Jezebel,'  sez  I,  '  sellin' 
your  masther's  honor  for  five  rupees — pack 
up  all  the  Miss  Sahib's  kit  an'  look  sli[)py  ! 
Capt'n  Sahib's  order,'  sez  I;  'going  to  the 
station  we  are,'  I  sez,  an'  wid  that  I  laid  me 
finger  to  me  nose  an'  looked  the  schamin' 
sinner  I  was. 

''''■Bote  acchy,'  says  she;  so  I  knew  she 
was  in  the  business,  an'  I  piled  up  all  the 
sweet  talk  I'd  iver  learned  in  the  bazaars  on 
to  this  she-bullock,  an'  prayed  av  her  to  put 
all  the  quick  she  knew  into  the  thing.  While 
she  packed,  I  stud  outside  an'  sweated,  for  I 
was  wanted  for  to  shlf  the  second  scene.  I 
tell  you,  a  young  gurl's  e-vasion  manes  as 
much  baggage  as  a  rig'mint  on  the  line  av 


42  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

march!  'Saints  help  Dennis's  springs/ 
thinks  I,  as  I  bundled  the  stuff  into  the 
thrap, '  for  I'll  have  no  mercy  !' 

"  '  I'm  comin'  too,'  says  the  ayah. 

"'No,  you  don't,'  sez  I,  'later — pechy! 
You  baito  where  you  are.  I'll  pechy  come 
an'  bring  you  sart,  along  with  me,  you  ma- 
raudin" — niver  mind  fwhat  I  called  her. 

"  Thin  I  wint  for  the  Gaff,  an'  by  the  spe- 
cial ordher  av  Providence,  for  I  was  doin'  a 
good  work  you  will  ondersthand,  Dennis's 
springs  hild  toight.  '  Now,  whin  the  capt'n 
goes  for  that  kit,'  thinks  I,  '  he'll  be  throu- 
bled.'  At  the  end  av  'Sweethearts'  off  the 
capt'n  runs  in  his  kyart  to  the  colonel's 
house,  an'  I  sits  down  on  the  steps  an' 
laughs.  Wanst  an'  again  I  slipped  in  to  see 
how  the  little  piece  was  goin',  an'  whin  ut 
was  near  endin'  I  stepped  out  all  among  the 
carri'ges  an'  sings  out  very  softly,  '  Jungi !' 
Wid  that  a  carri'ge  began  to  move,  an'  I 
waved  to  the  dhriver.  '  Hitherao  !'  sez  I,  an' 
he  hitheraoed  till  I  judged  he  was  at  proper 
distance,  an'  thin  I  tuk  him,  fair  an'  square 
betune  the  eyes,  all  I  knew  for  good  or  bad, 
an'  he  dropped  wid  a  guggle  like  the  canteen 
beer-engine  whin  ut's  runnin'  low.  Thin  I 
ran  to  the  kyart  an'  tuk  out  all  the  kit  an' 
piled  it  into  the  carri'ge,  the  sweat  runnin' 
down  me  face  in  dhrops.  'Go  home,'  sez  I 
to  the  sais;  'you'll  find  a  man  close  here. 
Very  sick  he  is.  Take  him  away,  an'  av  you 
iver  say  wan  wurrd  about  fwhat  you've  dek- 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  43 

hoed,  I'll  marrow  you  till  your  own  wife 
•won't  snmjao  who  you  are!'  Thin  I  heard 
the  stampin'  av  feet  at  the  ind  av  the  play, 
an'  I  ran  in  to  let  down  the  curtain.  Whin 
they  all  came  out  the  gurl  thried  to  hide  her- 
self behind  wan  av  the  pillars,  an'  sez  '  Jungi' 
in  a  voice  that  wudn't  ha'  scared  a  hare.  I 
run  over  to  Jungi's  carri'ge  an'  tuk  up  the 
lousy  old  horse-blanket  on  the  box,  wrapped 
my  head  an'  the  rest  av  me  in  ut,  an'  dhrove 
up  to  where  she  was. 

"  '  Miss  Sahib,'  sez  I ; '  goin'  to  the  station. 
Captain  Sahib's  order!'  an'  widout  a  sign 
she  jumped  in  all  among  her  own  kit. 

"  I  laid  to  an'  druv  like  steam  to  the 
colonel's  house  before  the  colonel  was  there, 
an'  she  screamed  an'  I  thought  she  was 
goin'  off.  Out  comes  the  ayah,  sayin'  all 
sorts  av  things  about  the  capt'n  havin' 
come  for  the  kit  an'  gone  to  the  station. 

"  '  Take  out  the  luggage,  you  divil,'  sez  I, 
'or  I'll  murther  you!' 

"  The  lights  av  the  thraps  people  comin' 
from  the  Gaff  was  showin'  acrost  the  parade- 
ground,  an'  by  this  an'  that,  the  way  thim 
two  women  worked  at  the  bundles  an' 
thrunks  was  a  caution  !  I  was  dyin'  to  help, 
but,  seein'  I  didn't  want  to  bo  known,  I  sat 
wid  the  blanket  roun'  me  an'  coughed  an* 
thanked  the  saints  there  was  no  moon  that 
night. 

"  Whin  all  was  in  the  house  again,  I  niver 
asked  for  bukshish  but  druv  tremenjus  in  the 


44  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

opp'site  way  from  the  other  carri'ge  an'  put 
out  me  lights.  Presintly,  I  saw  a  naygur 
man  wallowin'  in  the  road.  I  slipped  down 
before  I  got  to  him,  for  I  suspicioned  Provi- 
dence was  wid  me  all  through  that  night. 
'Twas  Jungi,  his  nose  smashed  in  flat,  all 
dumb  sick  as  you  please.  Dennis's  man 
must  have  tilted  him  out  av  the  thrap. 
Whin  he  came  to,  'Hutt!'  sez  I,  but  he 
began  to  howl. 

"  '  You  black  lump  av  dirt,'  I  sez,  '  is  this 
the  way  you  dhrive  your  gharri  f  That 
tikka  has  been  owin'  an'  fereowin'  all  over 
the  bloomin'  country  this  whole  bloomin' 
night,  an'  you  as  mut-walla  as  Davey's  sow. 
Get  up,  you  hog!'  sez  I,  louder,  for  I  heard 
the  Avheels  av  a  thrap  in  the  dark  ;  '  get  up  ■ 
an'  light  your  lamps,  or  you'll  be  run  into  !' 
This  was  on  the  road  to  the  railway  station. 

"  '  Fwat  the  divil's  this  ?'  sez  the  capt'n's 
voice  in  the  dhark,  an'  1  could  judge  he  was 
in  a  lather  av  rage. 

"'  Gharri  dhriver  here,  dhrunk,  sorr,'  sez 
I;  'I  found  his  gharri  sthrayin' about  can- 
tonmints,  an'  now  I've  found  him.' 

"  '  Oh !'  sez  the  capt'n  ;  '  fwhat's  his  name  ?' 
I  stooped  down  an'  pretinded  to  listen. 

"  '  He  sez  his  name's  Jungi,  sorr,'  sez  I. 

"  '  Hould  my  harse,'  sez  the  capt'n  to  his 
man,  an'  wid  that  he  gets  down  wid  the 
whip  an'  lays  into  Jungi,  just  mad  wid 
rage  an'  swearin'  like  the  scut  he  was. 

*'  I  thought,  afther  awhile,  he  wud  icill  the 


THE  GOD  FROM  THE  MACHINE.  45 

man,  so  I  sez,  '  Stop,  sir,  or  you'll  nuirdher 
him  !'  That  dhrew  all  his  fire  on  me,  an' 
he  cursed  me  into  blazes,  an'  out  again.  I 
stud  to  attenshin  an'  saluted  :  '  Sorr,'  sez  I, 
'av  ivr}'  man  in  this  worruld  had  his  rights, 
I'm  thinkin'  that  more  than  wan  wud  be 
beaten  to  a  shakin'  jelly  for  this  night's 
work — that  never  came  off  at  all,  sorr,  as 
you  see.'  '  Now,'  thinks  I  to  myself,  '  Ter- 
ence Mulvane}',  you've  cut  your  own  throat, 
for  he'll  sthrike,  an'  you'll  knock  him  down 
for  the  good  av  his  sowl  an'  your  own  iver- 
lastin'  dishgrace !' 

"  But  the  capt'n  never  said  a  single  wurrd. 
He  choked  where  he  stud,  an'  thin  he  wint 
into  his  thrap  widout  sayin'  good-night,  an' 
I  wint  back  to  barricks." 

"  And  then  ?"  said  Ortheris  and  I  together. 

"  That  was  all,"  said  Mulvaney ;  "  niver 
another  wurrd  did  I  hear  av  the  whole  thing. 
All  I  know  was  that  there  was  no  e-vasion, 
an'  that  was  fwhat  I  wanted.  Now,  I  put 
ut  to  you,  sorr,  is  ten  days'  C  B.  a  fit  an'  a 
proper  tratement  for  a  man  who  has  behaved 
as  me?" 

"Well,  any'ow,"  said  Ortheris,  "  tweren't 
this  'ere  colonel's  daughter,  an'  you  was 
blazin' copped  when  you  tried  to  wash  in  the 
fort  ditch." 

"  That,"  said  Mulvaney,  finishing  the 
champagne,  "is  a  shuparfluous  an'  imir»vt'- 
nint  observation." 


PRIVATE  LEAROYD'S  STORY. 

And  he  told  a  tale.  —  Chronicles  of  Guatama  Buddha. 

Far  from  the  haunts  of  company  officers 
who  insist  upon  kit-inspections,  far  from 
keen-nosed  sergeants  who  sniff  the  pipe 
stuffed  into  the  bedding-roll,  two  miles  from 
the  tumult  of  the  barracks,  lies  the  Trap.  It 
is  an  old  well,  shadowed  by  a  twisted  pi  pal- 
tree  and  fenced  with  high  grass.  Here,  in 
the  years  gone  by,  did  Private  Ortheris  es- 
tablish his  depot  and  menagerie  for  such 
possessions,  living  and  dead,  as  could  not 
safely  be  introduced  to  the  barrack-room. 
Here  were  gathered  Houdin  pullets,  and 
fox-terriers  of  undoubted  pedigree  and  more 
than  doubtful  ownership,  for  Ortheris  was 
an  inveterate  poacher  and  pre-eminent 
among  a  regiment  of  neat-handed  dog- 
stealers. 

Never  again  will  the  long,  lazv  evenings 
return  wherein  Ortheris,  whistling  softly, 
nioved  surgeon-wise  among  the  captives  of 
his  craft  at  the  bottom  of  the  well ;  when 
Learoyd  sat  in  the  niche,  giving  sage  coun- 
sel on  the  management  of  "tykes,"  and 
Mulvaney,  from  the  crook  of  the  overhang- 
ing pipal,  waved  his  enormous  boots  in  ben- 
(46) 


PRIVA  TE  LEARO  YD'S  STOR  Y.  47 

ediction  above  our  heads,  delighting  us  with 
tales  of  love  and  war,  and  strange  experi- 
ences of  cities  and  men. 

Ortberis— landed  at  last  in  the  "  little  stuff 
bird-shop"  for  which  your  soul  longed; 
Learoyd — back  again  in  the  smoky,  stone- 
ribbed  north,  amid  the  clang  of  the  Bradford 
looms  ;  Mulvaney — grizzled,  tender,  and 
very  wise  Ulysses,  sweltering  on  the  earth- 
work of  a  Central  India  line — judge  if  I 
have  forgotten  old  days  in  the  Trap ! 

Orth'ris  as  alius  thinks  he  knaws  more 
than  other  folks,  said  she  wasn't  a  real  laady, 
but  nobbut  a  Hewrasian.  I  don't  gainsay  as 
her  culler  was  a  bit  doosky  like.  But  she 
was  a  laady.  Why,  she  rode  iv  a  carriage, 
an'  good  'osses,  too,  an'  her  'air  was  that 
oiled  as  you  could  see  your  faice  in  it,  an' 
she  wore  di'mond  rings  an'  a  goold  cliain, 
an'  silk  an'  satin  dresses  as  mun  'a'  cost  a 
deal,  for  it  isn't  a  cheap  shop  as  keeps 
enough  o'  one  pattern  to  fit  a  figure  like 
hers.  Her  name  was  Mrs.  De  Sussa,  an' t' 
waay  I  coom  to  be  acquainted  wi'  her  was 
along  of  our  colonel's  laady's  dog  Rip. 

I've  seen  a  vast  o'  dogs,  but  Rip  was  t' 
prettiest  picter  of  a  cliver  fox-tarrier  'at 
iver  I  set  eyes  on.  He  could  do  owt  you 
like  but  speeak,  an'  t'  colonel's  lady  set 
more  etore  by  him  than  if  he  had  been  a 
Christian.  She  bed  bairns  of  her  awn,  but 
they  was  i'  England,  and  Rip  seemed  to  get 


48  MULVANEY  STORIES: 

all  t'  coodlin'  and  pettin'  as  belonged  to  a 
bairn  b}''  good  right. 

But  Rip  were  a  bit  on  a  rover,  an'  bed 
a  habit  o'  breakin'  out  o'  barricks  like,  and 
trottin'  round  t'  plaice  as  if  he  were  t'  can- 
tonment magistrate  cooni  round  inspectin'. 
The  colonel  leathers  him  once  or  twice,  but 
Rip  didn't  care,  an'  kept  on  gooin'  his 
rounds,  wi'  his  ta^iil  a-waggin'  as  if  he  were 
flag  signalin'  to  t'  world  at  large  'at  he  was 
"gettin'  on  nicely,  thank  yo',  and  how's 
yo'sen?"  An'  then  t'  colonel,  as  was  noa 
sort  of  a  hand  wi'  a  dog,  tees  him  oop.  A 
real  clipper  of  a  dog,  an'  it's  noa  wonder  yon 
laady,  ]\Irs.  De  Sussa,  should  tek  a  fancy  tiv 
him.  Theer's  one  o'  t'  Ten  Commandments 
says  yo'  maun't  cuvvet  your  neebor's  ox  nor 
his  jackass,  but  it  doesn't  say  nowt  about 
his  tarrier-dogs,  an'  happen  thot's  t'  reason 
why  Mrs.  De  Sussa  cuvveted  Rip,  thou'  she 
went  to  church  reg'lar  along  wi'  her  hus- 
band, who  was  so  mich  darker  'at  if  he 
hedn't  such  a  good  coaat  tiv  his  back  yo' 
might  ha'  called  him  a  black  man,  and  nut 
tell  a  leenawther.  They  said  he  addled  his 
brass  i'  jute,  an'  he'd  a  rare  lot  on  it. 

Well,  you  seen,  when  they  teed  Rip  up,  t' 

oor  awd  lad  didn't  enjoy  very  good  'elth.  So 

l'  colonel's  laady  sends  for  me  as  'ad  a  naame 

for  bein'  knowledgeable  about   a  dog,  an' 

axes  what's  ailin'  wi'  him. 

"  Why,"  says  I,  "  he's  getten  t'  mopes,  an' 
what  he  wants  is  his  libbaty  an'  coompany 


FRIVA TE  LEARO YD'S  STO BY.  49 

like  t'  rest  on  us;  wal  happen  a  rat  or  two 
'ud  liven  him  oop.  It's  low,  mum,"  says  I, 
"is  rats,  but  it's  t'  nature  of  a  dog ;  an'  soa's 
cuttin'  round  an'  meetin'  another  dog  or  two 
an'  passin'  t'  time  o'  day,  an'  hevvin'  a  bit 
of  a  turn-up  w'  him  like  a  Christian." 

So  she  saj^s  her  dog  maunt  niver  fight  an' 
noa  Christians  iver  fought. 

"Then  what's  a  soldier  for?"  says  I;  an' 
I  explains  to  her  t'  contrairy  qualities  of  a 
dog,  'at,  when  yo'  coom  to  think  on't,  is  one 
o'  t'  curusest  things  as  is.  For  they  lam  to 
behave  theirsens  like  gentlemen  born,  fit  for 
t'  fost  o'  coompany — they  tell  me  t'  widdy 
herself  is  fond  of  a  good  dog  and  knaws  one 
when  she  sees  it  as  well  as  onnybody;  tlun 
on  t'  other  hand  a-tewin'  round  after  cats  an' 
gettin'  mixed  oop  i'  all  manners  o'  black- 
guardly street  rows,  an'  killin'  rats,  an' 
fightin'  like  divils. 

T'  colonel's  laady  says:  "AVell,  Learoyd, 
I  doan't  agree  wi'  you,  but  you're  right  in  a 
way  o*  speeakin',  an'  I  should  like  yo'  to  tek 
Rip  out  a-walkin'  wi'  you  sometimes;  but 
yo'  maunt  let  him  fight,  nor  chase  cats,  nor 
do  nowt  'orrid :"  an'  them  was  her  very 
wo'ds, 

Soa  Rip  an'  me  gooes  out  a-walkin'  o' 
evenin's,  he  bein'  a  dog  as  did  credit  tiv  a 
man,  an'  I  catches  a  lot  o'  rats  an'  we  hed  a 
bit  of  a  match  on  in  an  awd  dry  swimmin'- 
bath  at  back  o'  t'  cantonments,  an'  it  was 
none  so  long  afore  he  was  as  bright  as  a  but- 
4 


50  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

ton  again.  He  had  a  way  o'  flyin'  at  them 
big  yaller  pariah  dogs  as  if  he  was  a  harrow 
offiin  a  bow,  an'  though  his  weight  were 
nowt,  he  tuk  'em  so  suddint-like  they  rolled 
over  like  skittles  in  a  halley,  an'  when  they 
coot  he  stretched  after  'em  as  if  he  were 
rabbit-runnin'.  Saame  with  cats  when  he 
cud  get  t'  cat  agaate  o'  runnin'. 

One  evenin',  him  an'  me  was  trespassin' 
ovver  a  compound  wall  after  one  of  them 
mongooses  'at  he'd  started,  an'  we  was  busy 
grubbin'  round  a  prickle-bush,  an'  when  we 
looks  up  there  was  Mrs.  De  Sussa  wi'  a  par- 
asel  ovver  her  shoulder,  a-watchin'  us.  "Oh, 
my!"  she  sings  out;  "there's  that  lovelee 
dog !  Would  he  let  me  stroke  him,  Mister 
Soldier?" 

"Ay,  he  would,  mum,"  sez  I,  "for  he's 
fond  o'  laady's  coompany.  Coom  here,  Rip, 
an'  speeak  to  this  kind  laady."  An,  Rip, 
seein'  'at  t'  moongoose  hed  getten  clean 
awaay,  cooms  up  like  t'  gentleman  he  was, 
nivver  a  hauporth  shy  nor  okkord. 

"Oh,  you  beautiful — you  prettee  dog!" 
she  says,  clippin'  an'  chantin'  her  speech  in 
a  way  them  sooart  has  o'  their  awn ;  "  I 
would  like  a  dog  like  you.  You  are  so  ver- 
ree  lovelee — so  awfullee  prettee,"  an'  all  thot 
sort  o'  talk,  'at  a  dog  o'  sense  mebbe  thinks 
nowt  on,  tho'  he  bides  it  by  reason  o'  his 
breedin'. 

An'  then  I  meks  him  joomp  ovver  my 
swagger-cane,  an'  shek  hands,  an'  beg,  an' 


PRTVA  TE  LEARO  YD'S  STOR  Y.  51 

lie  dead,  an'  a  lot  o'  them  tricks  as  laadies 
teeaches  dogs,  though  I  doan't  haud  with  it 
mysen,  for  it's  makin'  a  fool  o'  a  good  dog 
to  do  such  like. 

An'  at  lung  length  it  cooms  out  'at  she'd 
been  thrawin'  sheep's  eyes,  as  t'  savin'  is,  at 
Rip  for  many  a  day.  Yo'  see,  her  childer 
was  grown  up,  an'  she'd  nowt  mich  to  do, 
an'  were  alius  fond  of  a  dog.  Soa  she  axes 
me  if  I'd  tek  somethin'  to  dhrink.  An'  we 
goes  into  t'  drawn- room  wheer  her  'usbancl 
was  a-settin'..  They  meks  a  gurt  fuss  ovver 
t'  dog  an'  I  has  a  bottle  o'  aale  an'  he  gave 
me  a  handful  o'  cigars. 

Soa  I  coomed  away,  but  t'  awd  lass  sings 
out:  "Oh,  Mister  Soldier!  please  coom  again 
and  bring  that  prettee  dog." 

I  didn't  let  on  to  t'  colonel's  laady  about 
Mrs.  De  Sussa,  and  Rip,  he  says  nowt  naw- 
ther ;  an'  I  gooes  again,  an'  ivry  time  there 
was  a  good  dhrink  an'  a  handful  o'  good 
smooaks.  An'  I  telled  t'  awd  lass  a  heeap 
more  about  Rip  than  I'd  ever  heeared;  how 
he  tuk  t'  fost  prize  at  |Lunnon  dog-show 
and  cost  thotty-three  pounds  fower  shillin' 
from  t'  man  as  bred  him  ;  'at  his  own  brother 
was  t'  proputty  o'  t'  Prince  o'  Wailes,  an'  'at 
he  had  a  pedigree  as  long  as  a  dook's.  An' 
she  lapped  it  all  oop  an'  were  niver  tired  o' 
admirin'  him.  But  when  t'  awd  lass  took 
to  givin'  me  money  an'  I  seed  'at  she  were 
gettin'  fair  fond  about  t'  dog,  I  began  to 
suspicion  summat.     Onnybody  may  give  a 


62  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

soldier  t'  price  of  a  pint  in  a  friendly  way 
an'  theer's  no  'arm  done,  but  when  it  cooms 
to  five  rupees  slipt  into  your  hand,  sly  like, 
why,  it's  what  t'  'lectioneerin'  fellows  calls 
bribery  an' corruption.  S])ecially  when  Mrs. 
De  Sussa  threwed  hints  how  t'  cold  weather 
would  soon  be  ovver  an'  she  was  goin'  to 
Munsooree  Pahar,  an'  we  was  goin'  to  Rawal- 
pindi, an'  she  would  never  see  Rip  any  more 
onless  somebody  she  knowed  on  would  be 
kind  tiv  hei\ 

Soa  I  tells  ]\rulvaney  an'  Ortheris  all  t' 
taale  thro',  beginnin'  to  end. 

"  'Tis  larceny  that  wicked  ould  lady 
manes,''  says  t'  Irishman,  "  'tis  felony  she 
is  sejuicin'  ye  into,  me  friend  Learoyd,  but 
I'll  purtect  your  innocince.  I'll  save  ye 
from  the  wicked  wiles  av  that  wealthy  ould 
woman,  an'  I'll  go  wid  you  this  evenin'  an' 
spake  to  her  the  wurrds  av  truth  an'  hon- 
esty. But  Jock,"  says  he,  waggin'  his  heead, 
"'twas  not  like  ye  to  kape  all  that  good 
dhrink  an'  thim  fine  cigars  to  yerself,  while 
Ortii'ris  here  an'  me  have  been  prowlin' 
round  wid  throats  as  dry  as  lime-kilns, 
an'  nothin'  to  smoke  but  canteen  plug. 
'Twas  a  dhirty  thrick  to  play  on  a  comrade, 
for  why  should  you,  Learoyd,  be  balancin' 
yourself  on  the  butt  av  a  satin  chair,  as 
if  Terence  Mulvaney  was  no',  the  aquil  av 
anybody  who  thrades  in  jute!" 

"  Let  alone  me,"  sticks  in  Orth'ris  ;  "  but 
that's  like  life,     Them  wot's  really  fitted  to 


PRIVATE  LEAEOYD'S  STORY.  53 

decorate  society  get  no  show,  while  a  blun- 
derin'  Yorkshireman  like  you — " 

"  Nay,"  says  I,  "  It's  none  o'  t'  blunderin' 
Yorkshireman  she  wants,  it's  Rip.  He's  t' 
gentleman  this  journey." 

Soa  t'  next  day,  Mulvaney  an'  Rip  an'  me 
goes  to  Mrs.  De  Sussa's,  an' t'  Irishman  bein' 
a  strainger  she  wor  a  bit  shy  at  fost.  But 
you've  heeard  Mulvaney  talk,  an'  yo'  may 
believe  as  he  fairly  bewitched  t'  awd  lass 
wal  she  let  out  'at  she  wanted  to  tek  Rip 
away  wi'  her  to  Munsooree  Pahar.  Then 
Mulvaney  changes  his  tune  an'  axes  her 
solemn-like  if  she'd  thought  o'  t'  conse- 
quences o'  gettin'  two  poor  but  honest  sol- 
diers sent  t'  Andamning  Islands.  Mrs.  De 
Sussa  began  to  cry,  so  Mulvaney  turns  round 
oppen  t'  other  tack  and  smooths  her  down, 
allowin'  'at  Rip  ud  be  a  vast  better  ofiin  t' 
hills  than  down  1'  Bengal,  an'  'twas  a  pity 
he  shouldn't  go  wheer  he  was  so  well  be- 
liked.  And  soa  he  went  on,  backin'  an' 
fillin'  an'  workin'  up  t'  awd  lass  wal  she  felt 
as  if  her  life  warn't  worth  nowt  if  she  didn't 
hev  t'  dog. 

Then  all  of  a  suddint  he  says:  "But  ye 
shall  have  him,  marm,  for  I've  a  feelin' 
heart,  not  like  this  cowld-blooded  Yorkshire- 
man  ;  but  'twill  cost  ye  not  a  penny  less  than 
three  hundher  rupees." 

"Don't  you's  believe  him,  mum,"  says  I; 
"  t'  colonel's  laady  wouldn't  tek  five  hundred 
for  him." 


54  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

"Who  said  she  would?"  says  Mulvaney; 
"  it's  not  buyin'  him  I  mane,  but  for  the  sake 
o'  this  kind,  good  laady,  I'll  do  what  I  never 
dreamt  to  do  in  my  lile.     I'll  stale  him  !" 

"Don't  say  steal,"  says  Mrs.  De  Sussa; 
"he  shall  have  the  happiest  home.  Dogs 
often  get  lost,  you  know,  and  then  they 
stray,  an'  he  likes  me,  and  I  like  him  as  I 
niver  liked  a  dog  yet,  an'  I  must  hev  him. 
If  I  got  him  at  t'  last  minute  I  could  carry 
him  off  to  Munsooree  Pahar  and  nobody 
would  niver  knaw." 

Now  an'  again  Mulvaney  looked  acrost  at 
me,  an'  though  I  could  mak  nowt  o'  what 
he  was  after,  I  concluded  to  take  his  leead. 

"  Well,  mum,"  I  says,  "  I  never  thowt  to 
coom  down  to  dog-stealin',  but  if  my  com- 
rade sees  how  it  could  be  done  to  oblige  a 
laady  like  yo'sen,  I'm  nutt'  man  to  hod  back, 
tho'  it's  a  bad  business,  I'm  thinkin',  an' 
three  hundred  rupees  is  a  poor  set-oflF  again 
t'  chance  of  them  Damning  Islands  as  Mul- 
vaney talks  on." 

"  I'll  mek  it  three  fifty,"  says  Mrs.  De 
Sussa;  "  only  let  me  hev  t'  dog !" 

So  we  let  her  persuade  us,  an'  she  teks 
Rip's  measure  theer  an'  then,  an'  sent  to 
Hamilton's  to  order  a  silver  collar  again  t' 
time  when  he  was  to  be  her  awn,  which  was 
to  be  t'  day  she  set  off  for  Monsooree  Pahar. 

"Sitha,  Mulvaney,"  says  I,  when  we  was 
outside, "  you're  niver  goin'  to  let  her  hev 
Rip !" 


PRI VA  TE  LEARO YD'S  S TOE V.  5 5- 

"An'  would  ye  disappoint  a  poor   ould 
woman?"  says  he ;  "  she  sliall  liave  a  Rip.'' 

"  An'  wheer's  he  to  come  througli  ?"  says  I. 

'*  Learoyd,  me  man,"  he  sings  out, "  you're- 
a  pretty  man  av  your  inches  an'  a  good  com- 
rade, but  your  head  is  made  av  duff.  Isn't, 
our  friend  Orth'ris  a  taxidermist,  an'  a  rale 
artist  Avid  his  nimble  white  fingers  !  An'' 
what's  a  taxidermist  but  a  man  who  can 
thrate  skins?  Do  ye  mind  the  white  dog- 
that  belongs  to  the  canteen  sarjint,  bad  cess 
to  him — he  that's  lost  half  his  time  an'  snarl- 
in'  the  rest?  He  shall  be  lost  for  good  now ; 
an'  do  ye  mind  that  he's  the  very  spit  in 
shape  an'  size  av  the  colonel's,  barrin'  that 
his  tail  is  an  inch  too  long,  an'  he  has  none 
av  the  color  that  divarsifies  the  rale  Rip,  an* 
his  timper  is  that  av  his  masther  an'  worse. 
But  fwhat  is  an  inch  on  a  dog's  tail?  An' 
fwhat  to  a  professional  like  Orth'ris  is  a  few 
ring-straked  shpots  av  black,  brown,  an* 
white?    Nothin'  at  all,  at  all." 

Then  we  meets  Orth'ris,  an' that  little  man, 
bein'  sharp  as  a  needle,  seed  his  way 
through  t'  business  in  a  minute.  An'  he 
went  to  work  a-practicin'  'air-dyes  the  very 
next  day,  beginnin'  on  some  white  rabbits 
he  had,  an'  then  he  drored  all  Rip's  markin's 
on  t'  back  of  a  white  commissariat  bullock, 
so  as  to  get  his  'and  in  an'  be  sure  of  his 
colors ;  shadin'  off  brown  into  black  as  na- 
teral  as  life.  If  Rip  had  a  fault  it  was  too 
mich  markin',  but  it  vv^as  straingely  reg'lar^ 


56  MULVANEY  STOEIEf?. 

an'  Orth'ris  settled  himself  to  make  a  fost- 
rate  job  on  it  when  he  got  haud  o'  t'  canteen 
sarjint's  dog.  Theer  niver  was  sich  a  dog  as 
thot  for  bad  temper,  an'  it  did  nut  get  no 
better  when  his  tail  hed  to  be  fettled  an'  inch 
an'  a  half  shorter.  But  they  may  talk  o'  theer 
Royal  Academies  as  they  like,  I  niver  seed  a 
bit  o'  animal  paintin'  to  beat  t'  copy  as 
Orth'ris  made  of  Rip's  marks,  wal  t'  picter 
itself  was  snarlin'  all  t'  time  an'  tryin'  to  get 
at  Rip  standin' theer  to  be  copied  as  good  as 
goold 

Orth'ris  alius  hed  as  mich  conceit  on  him- 
sen  as  would  lift  a  balloon,  an'  he  wor  so 
pleeased  wi'  his  sham  Rip  he  wor  for  tek- 
kin'  him  to  Mrs.  De  Sussa  before  she  went 
away.  But  Mulvaney  an'  me  stopped  thot, 
knowin'  Orth'ris's  work,  though  niver  so 
cliver,  was  nobbut  skin-deep.  An'  at  last 
Mrs.  De  Sussa  fixed  t'  day  for  startin'  to 
Munsooree  Pahar.  We  was  to  tek  Rip  to  t' 
staj^siiun  i'  a  basket  an'  hand  him  ovver  just 
when  they  was  ready  to  start,  an'  then  she'd 
give  us  t'  brass — as  was  agreed  upon. 

An'  m\'-  wo'd!  It  were  high  time  she  were 
off,  for  them  'air-dyes  on  t'  cur's  back  took  a 
vast  of  paintin'  to  keep  t'  reet  culler,  tho' 
Orth'ris  spent  a  matter  of  seven  rupees  six 
annas  i'  t'  best  drooggist  shops  i'  Calcutta. 

An'  t'  canteen  sarjint  was  lookin'  for  'is 
dog  everywheer ;  an',  wi'  bein'  tied  up,  t' 
beast's  timper  got  waur  nor  ever. 

It  wor  i'  t'  evenin'  when  t'  train  started 


PRIVATE  LEAROYD'S  STOiiY.  57 

thro'  Howrah,  an'  we  'elped  Mrs.  De  Sussa 
wi'  about  sixty  boxes,  an'  then  we  gave 
her  t'  basket.  Orth'ris,  for  pride  av  his 
work,  axed  us  to  let  him  coom  along  wi'  us, 
an'  he  couldn't  help  liftin'  t'  lid  an'  showin' 
t'  cur  as  he  lay  coiled  oop. 

"Oh!"  says  t'  awd  lass;  "the  beautee! 
How  sweet  he  looks  !"  An'  just  then  t' 
beauty  snarled  an'  showed  his  teeth,  so  Mul- 
vaney  shuts  down  t'  lid  and  says:  "  Ye'll  be 
careful,  marm,  whin  ye  tek  him  out.  He's 
disaccustomed  to  traveling  by  t'  railway,  an' 
he'll  be  sure  to  want  his  rale  mistress  an'  his 
friend  Learoyd,  so  ye'll  make  allowance  for 
his  feehngs  at  fost." 

She  would  do  all  thot  an'  more  for  the 
dear,  good  Rip,  an'  she  would  nut  oppen  t' 
basket  till  they  were  miles  away,  for  fear 
anybody  should  recognize  him,  an'  we  were 
real  good  an'  kind  sofdier-men,  we  were,  an' 
she  bonds  me  a  bundle  o'  notes,  an'  then 
cooms  up  a  few  of  her  relations  an'  friends 
to  say  good-bye — not  more  than  seventy-five 
there  wasn't — an'  we  cuts  away. 

What  coom  t'  three  hundred  an'  fifty  ru- 
pees? Thot's  what  I  can  scarcelins  tell  you, 
but  we  melted  it.  It  was  share  an'  share 
alike,  for  Mulvaney  said :  "  If  Learoyd  got 
hold  of  Mrs.  De  Sussa  first,  sure  'twas  I  that 
remimbered  the  sarjint's  dog  just  in  the  nick 
av  time,  an'  Orth'ris  was  the  artist  av  janius 
that  made  a  work  av  art  out  av  that  ugly 
piece  av  ill-nature.    Yet,  by  way  av  a  thank- 


58  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

offerin'  that  I  was  not  led  into  felony  by  that 
wicked  ould  woman,  I'll  send  a  thrifle  to 
Father  Victor  for  the  poor  people  he's  always 
beggin'  for." 

But  me  an'  Orth'ris,  he  bein'  cockney  an' 
I  bein'  pretty  far  north,  did  nut  see  it  in  t' 
saame  way.  We'd  getten  t'  brass,  an'  we 
meaned  to  keep  it.  An'  soa  we  did — for  a 
short  time. 

Noa,  noa,  we  niver  heeard  a  wod  more  o' 
t'  awd  lass.  Our  rig'mint  went  to  Pindi,  an' 
t'  canteen  sarjint  he  got  himself  another  tyke 
insteead  o'  t'  one  'at  got  lost  so  reg'lar,  an' 
was  lost  for  good  at  last. 


THE  MADNESS  OF  PRIVATE 
ORTHERIS. 

Oh  !   Where  would  I  be  when  my  froat  was  dry? 
Oh  !   Where  would  I  be  when  the  bullets  fly? 
Oh  1   Where  would  I  be  when  I  come  to  die  ? 

Why, 
Somewheres  anigh  my  chum. 

If  'e's  liquor  'e'U  give  me  some, 

If  I'm  dyin'  'e'U  'old  my  'ead, 

An'  'e'U  write  'em  'Ome  when  I'm  dead. — 

Gawd  send  us  a  trusty  chum  ! 

Barrack  Room  Ballad, 

My  friends  Mulvaney  and  Ortheris  had 
gone  on  a  shooting  expedition  for  one  day. 
Learoyd  was  still  in  hospital,  recovering 
from  fever  picked  up  in  Burma.  They  sent 
me  an  invitation  to  join  them,  and  were  gen- 
uinely pained  when  I  brought  beer — almost 
enough  beer  to  satisfy  two  privates  of  the 
line — and  me. 

'"Twasn't  for  that  we  bid  you  welkim, 
sorr,"  said  Mulvaney,  sulkily.  "  'Twas  for 
the  pleasure  av  your  comp'ny." 

Ortheris  came  to  the  rescue  with  :  "  Well, 
'e  won't  be  none  the  worse  for  bringin'  liquor 
with  'm.  We  ain't  a  file  o'  dooks.  We're 
bloomin'  Tommies,  ye  cantankris  Hirish- 
man ;  an'  'ere's  your  very  good  'ealth !" 

(59) 


60  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

We  shot  all  the  forenoon,  and  killed  two 
pariah-dogs,  four  green  parrots,  sitting,  one 
kite  by  the  burning-ghaut,  one  snake  flying, 
one  mud-turtle,  and  eight  crows.  Game  was 
plentiful.  Then  we  sat  down  to  tiffin — 
"  bull-mate  an'  bran-bread,"  Mulvaney  called 
it — by  the  side  of  the  river,  and  took  pot 
shots  at  the  crocodiles  in  the  intervals  of 
cutting  up  the  food  with  our  only  pocket- 
knife.  Then  we  drank  up  all  the  beer,  and 
threw  the  bottles  into  the  water  and  fired  at 
them.  After  that,  we  eased  belts  and 
stretched  ourselves  on  the  warm  sand  and 
smoked.  We  were  too  lazy  to  continue 
shooting. 

Ortheris  heaved  a  big  sigh  as  he  lay  on  his 
stomach  with  his  head  between  his  fists. 
Then  he  swore  quietly  into  the  blue  sky. 

"Fwhat's  that  for?"  said  Mulvaney. 
"  Have  ye  not  drunk  enough  ?" 

"  Tott'nim  Court  Road,  an'  a  gal  I  fancied 
there.     Wot's  the  good  of  sodgerin'  ?" 

"Orth'ris,  me  son,"  said  Mulvaney,  has- 
tily, "  'tis  more  than  likely  you've  got  throu- 
ble  in  your  inside  with  the  beer.  I  feel  that 
way  mesilf  whin  my  liver  gets  rusty." 

Ortheris  went  on  slowly,  not  heeding  the 
interruption: 

"I'm  a  Tommy— a  bloomin',  eight-anna, 
dog-stealin'  Tommy,  with  a  number  instead 
o'  a  decent  name.  Wot's  the  good  o'  me  ?  If 
I  'ad  a  stayed  at  'ome,  I  might  a'  married 
that  gal  an'  kep'  a  little  shorp  in  the  'Am- 


THE  MADNESS  OF  PRIVATE  OETHERIS.      61 

mersmith  Igh — '  S.  Orth'ris,  Prac-ti-cal  Taxi- 
der-mist.'  \Mth  a  stuff'  fox,  like  they  'as 
in  the  Haylesbury  Dairies,  in  the  winder,  an' 
a  little  case  of  blue  an'  yaller  glass  heyes, 
an'  a  little  wife  to  call  'shorp!'  'shorp!' 
when  the  door  bell  rung.  As  it  his,  I'm  on'y 
a  Tommy — a  bloomin',  Gawdforsaken,  beer- 
swillin'  Tommy.  '  Rest  on  your  harms — 
'versed.  Stan'  at — hease.'  Shun.  'Verse — 
harms.  Right  an'  lef  tarrn.  Slow — march. 
'Alt — front.  Rest  on  your  harms — 'versed. 
With  blank  cartridge — load.'  An'  that's  the 
end  o'  me."  He  was  quoting  fragments  from 
Funeral  Parties'  Orders. 

"Stop  ut!"  shouted  Mulvaney.  "Whin 
you've  fired  into  nothin'  as  often  as  me,  over 
a  better  man  than  3'oursilf,  you  will  not 
make  a  mock  av  thim  orders.  'Tis  worse 
than  whistlin'  the  '  Dead  March  '  in  barricks. 
An'  you  full  as  a  tick,  an'  the  sun  cool,  an' 
all  an' all!  I  take  shame  for  you.  You're 
no  better  than  a  pagin — you  an'  your  firin' 
parties  an'  your  glass  eyes.  Won't  you  stop 
ut,  sorr?" 

What  could  I  do?  Could  I  tell  Ortheris 
anything  that  he  did  not  know  of  the  pleas- 
ures of  his  life?  I  was  not  a  chaplain  nor 
a  subaltern,  and  Ortheris  had  a  right  to  speak 
as  he  thought  fit. 

"  Let  him  run,  Mulvaney,"  I  said.  "  It's 
the  beer." 

"No!  'Tisn't  the  beer,"  said  Mulvaney. 
"  I  know  fwhat's  comin'.     He's  tuk  this  way 


62  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

now  an'  ag'in,  an'  it's  bad — it's  bad — for  I'm 
fond  av  the  bhoy." 

Indeed,  Mulvany  seemed  needlessly  anx- 
ious; but  I  knew  that  he  looked  after  Orth'- 
ris  in  a  fatherly  way. 

"  Let  me  talk,  let  me  talk,"  said  Ortheris, 
dreamily.  "  D'  you  stop  your  parrit  scream- 
in'  of  a  'ot  day,  when  the  cage  is  a-cookin' 
'is  pore  little  pink  toes  orf,  Mulvaney?" 

"  Pink  toes !  D'ye  mane  to  say  you've 
pink  toes  under  your  bullswools,  ye  blan- 
danderin'" — Mulvaney  gathered  himself  to- 
gether for  a  terrific  denunciation — "  school- 
misthress !  Pink  toes !  How  m  uch  Bass  wid 
the  label  did  that  ravin'  child  dhrink?" 

"  'Tain't  Bass,"  said  Ortheris.  '^  It's  a  bit- 
terer beer  nor  that.     It's  'ome  sickness  !" 

"Hark  to  him!  An'  he's  goin'  home 
in  the  '  Sherapis '  in  the  inside  av  four 
months !" 

"I  don't  care.  It's  all  one  to  me.  'Ow  d'you 
know  I  ain't  'fraid  o'  dyin'  'fore  I  gets  my 
papers?"  He  recommenced,  in  a  sing-song 
voice,  the  Funeral  Orders. 

I  had  never  seen  this  side  of  Ortheris's 
character  before,  but  evidently  Mulvaney 
had,  and  attached  serious  importance  to  it. 
While  Ortheris  babbled,  with  his  head  on 
his  arms,  ^lulvaney  whispered  to  me  : 

"  He's  always  tuk  this  way  whin  he's  been 
checked  overmuch  by  the  childher  they 
make  sarjints  nowadays.  That  an'  havin' 
nothin'to  do.  I  can't  make  ut  out  any  ways." 


THE  MADNESS  OF  PRIVATE  ORTHERIS.      63 

"  Well,  what  does  it  matter  ?  Let  him 
talk  himself  through." 

Ortheris  began  singing  a  parody  of  "  The 
Ramrod  Corps,"  full  of  cheerful  allusions  to 
battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death.  He 
looked  out  across  the  river  as  he  sung,  and 
his  face  was  quite  strange  to  me.  Mulvaney 
caught  me  by  the  elbow  to  insure  attention. 

"Matther?  It  matthers  everything !  'Tis 
some  sort  av  fit  that's  on  him.  I've  seen  ut. 
'T  will  hould  him  all  this  night,  an'  in  the 
middle  av  it  he'll  get  out  av  his  cot  an'  go 
rakin'  in  the  rack  for  his  'coutrements.  Thin 
he'll  come  over  to  me  an'  say  :  '  I'm  goin'  to 
Bombay.  Answer  for  me  in  themornin'.'  Thin 
me  an' him  Avill  fight  as  we've  done  before — 
him  to  go  an'  me  to  hould  him — an'  so  we'll 
both  come  on  the  books  for  disturbin'  in 
barricks.  I've  belted  him,  an'  I've  brukhis 
head,  an'  I've  talked  to  him,  but  'tis  no  man- 
ner av  use  whin  the  fit's  on  him.  He's  as 
good  a  bhoy  as  ever  stepped  whin  his  mind's 
clear.  I  know  fwhat's  comin',  though,  this 
night  in  barricks.  Lord  send  he  doesn't 
loose  off  whin  I  rise  for  to  knock  him  down. 
'Tis  that  that's  in  me  mind  day  an'  night." 

This  put  the  case  in  a  much  less  pleasant 
light,  and  fully  accounted  for  Mulvaney's 
anxiety.  He  seemed  to  be  trying  to  coax 
Ortheris  out  of  the  "fit;"  for  he  shouted 
down  the  bank  where  the  boy  was  lying: 

"  Listen,  now,  you  wid  the  '  pore  pink  toes  ' 
an'  the  glass  eyes  !    Did  you  shwim  the  Irri- 


64  MUL  VA XEY  STORIES. 

waddy  at  night,  behin'  me,  as  a  bhoy  shud; 
or  were  you  hidin'  under  a  bed,  as  you  was 
at  Ahmed  Kheyl?" 

This  was  at  once  a  gross  insult  and  a  direct 
lie,  and  Mulvaney  meant  it  to  bring  on  a 
fight.  But  Ortheris  seemed  shut  up  in  some 
sort  of  trance.  He  answered  slowly,  with- 
out a  sign  of  irritation,  in  the  same  cadenced 
voice  as  he  had  used  for  his  firing-party  or- 
ders: 

"  Hi  swum  the  Irriwaddy  in  the  night,  as 
you  know,  for  to  take  the  town  Lungtung- 
pen,  nakid  an'  without  fear.  Hand  where  I 
was  at  Ahmed  Kheyl  you  know,  and  four 
bloomin'  Pathans  know  too.  But  that  was 
summat  to  do,  an'  I  didn't  think  o'  dyin'. 
Now  I'm  sick  to  go  'ome — go  'ome — go  'ome! 
No,  I  ain't  mammy  sick,  because  my  uncle 
brung  me  up,  but  I'm  sick  for  London 
again;  sick  for  the  sounds  of  'er,  an'  the 
Bights  of  'er,  an'  the  stinks  of  'er;  orange- 
peel  an'  hasphalt  an'  gas  comin'  in  over 
Vaux'all  Bridge.  Sick  for  the  rail  goin' 
down  to  Box  '111,  with  your  gal  on  your 
knee  an'  a  new  clay  pipe  in  your  face.  That, 
an'  the  Stran'  lights  where  you  knows 
ev'ry  one,  an'  the  copper  that  takes  you  up 
is  a  old  friend  that  tuk  you  up  before,  when 
you  was  a  little  smitchy  boy  lyin'  loose 
twen  the  Temple  an'  the  Dark  Harches. 
No  bloomin'  guard-mountin',  no  bloomin' 
rotten-stone,  nor  khaki,  an'  yourself  your 
own  master  with  a  gal  to  take  an'  see  the 


THE  31ADNESS  OF  PRIVATE  ORTHERIf!.      65 

Humaners  practicin'  a-hookin'  dead  corpses 
out  o'  the  Serpentine  o'  Sundays.  An'  I  lef 
all  that  for  to  serve  the  widder  beyond  the 
seas  where  there  ain't  no  women  an'  there 
ain't  no  liquor  worth  'avin',  an'  there  ain't 
nothin'  to  see,  nor  do,  nor  say,  nor  feel,  nor 
think.  Lord  love  you,  Stanley  Orth'ris,  but 
you're  a  bigger  bloomin'  fool  than  the  rest 
o'  the  rig'mint  an'  Mulvaney  wired  to- 
gether! There's  the  widder  sittin'  at  'on>e 
with  a  gold  crown  on  'er  'ead  ;  an'  'ere  Hi, 
Stanley  Orth'ris,  the  widdier's  propert}-,  a 
rottin'  FOOL !" 

His  voice  rose  at  the  end  of  the  sentence, 
and  he  wound  up  with  a  six-shot  Anglo-ver- 
nacular oath.  Mulvaney  said  nothing,  but 
looked  at  me  as  if  he  expected  that  I  could 
bring  peace  to  poor  Ortheris's  troubled 
brain. 

I  remembered  once  at  Rawal  Pindi  having 
seen  a  man,  nearly  mad  witli  drink,  sobered 
by  being  made  fool  of.  Some  regiments 
may  know  what  I  mean.  I  hoped  that  we 
might  shake  off  Ortheris  in  the  same  way, 
though  he  was  perfectly  sober;  so  I  said  : 

"What's  the  use  of  grousing  there,  and 
speaking  against  the  widow?" 

"I  didn't!*'  said  Ortheris.  "S'elp  me 
Gawd,  I  never  said  a  word  agin  'er,  an'  I 
wouldn't — not  if  I  was  to  desert  this  min- 
ute !" 

Here  was  my  opening.  "  Well,  you  meant 
to,  anyhow.  What's  the  use  of  cracking  on 
5 


66  MUL VANE V  STORIES. 

for  nothing?  Would  you  slip  it  now  if  you 
got  the  chance?" 

"  On'y  try  me!"  said  Ortheris,  jumping  to 
his  feet  as  if  he  had  been  stung. 

iMulvaney  jumped  too.  "Fwhatare  you 
goin'  to  do  ?"  said  he. 

"  Help  Ortheris  down  to  Bombay  or  Kara- 
chi, v/hichever  he  likes.  You  can  report  that 
he  separated  from  you  before  tiffin,  and  left 
his  gun  on  the  bank  here  !" 

"I'm  to  report  that— am  I?"  said  Mul- 
vane}^,  slowly.  "Very  well.'  If  Orth'ris 
manes  to  desert  now,  an'  will  desert  now, 
an'  you,  sorr,  who  have  been  a  friend  to  me 
an'  to  him,  will  help  him  to  ut,  I,  Terence 
Mulvaney,  on  my  oath,  which  I've  never 
bruk  yet,  will  report  as  you  say.  But" — 
here  he  stepped  up  to  Ortheris,  and  shook 
the  stock  of  the  fowling-piece  in  his  face — 
*'your  fistes  help  you,  Stanley  Orth'ris,  if 
iver  I  come  across  you  agin  !" 

"  I  don't  care  !"  said  Ortheris.  "  I'm  sick 
o'  this  dorg's  life.  Give  me  a  chanst.  Don't 
play  with  me.     Le'  me  go !" 

"Strip,"  said  I,  "and  change  with  me,  and 
then  I'll  tell  you  what  to  do." 

I  hoped  that  the  absurdity  of  this  would 
check  Ortheris,  but  he  had  kicked  off  his 
ammunition-boots  and  got  rid  of  his  tunic 
almost  before  I  had  loosed  my  shirt-collar. 
Mulvaney  gripped  me  by  the  arm  : 

"  The  fit's  on  him ;  the  fit's  workin'  on 
him  still.     By  my  honor  an'  sowl,  we  shall 


TEE  MADNESS  OF  PRIVATE  ORTHERIS.      67 

be  accessiry  to  a  desartionyet;  only  twinty- 
eight  days,  as  you  say,  sorr,  or  fifty-six,  but 
think  o'  the  shame — the  bhick  shame  to  him 
an' me  I"  I  had  never  seen  Mulvaney  so 
excited. 

But  Ortheris  was  quite  calm,  and  as  soon 
as  he  had  exchanged  clothes  with  me,  and  I 
stood  up  a  private  of  the  line,  he  said 
shortly:  "Now!  Come  on.  What  nex'? 
D'ye  mean  fair?  What  must  I  do  to  get  out 
o' this 'ere  hell?" 

I  told  him  that  if  he  would  wait  for  two  or 
three  hours  near  the  river  I  would  ride  into 
the  station  and  come  back  with  one  hun^ 
dred  rupees.  He  would,  with  that  money  in 
his  pocket,  walk  to  the  nearest  side-station 
on  the  line,  about  five  miles  away,  and 
would  there  take  a  first-class  ticket  for  Kara- 
chi. Knowing  that  he  had  no  money  on 
him  when  he  went  out  shooting,  his  regi- 
ment would  not  immediately  wire  to  the 
sea-ports,  but  would  hunt  for  him  in  the 
native  villages  near  the  river.  Further,  no 
one  would  think  of  seeking  a  deserter  in  a 
first-class  carriage.  At  Karachi  he  was  to 
buy  white  clothes  and  ship,  if  he  could,  on  a 
cargo-steamer. 

Here  he  broke  in.  If  I  helped  him  to 
Karachi  he  would  arrange  all  the  rest.  Then 
I  ordered  him  to  wait  where  he  was  until  it 
was  dark  enough  for  me  to  ride  into  the  sta- 
tion without  my  dress  being  noticed.  Now 
God  in  His  wisdom  has  made  the  heart  of  a 


G 8  M  UL  VANEY  STORIES. 

British  soldier,  who  is  very  often  an  nn- 
licked  ruffian,  as  soft  as  the  heart  of  a  little 
child,  in  order  that  he  may  believe  in  and 
follow  his  officers  into  tight  and  nasty 
places.  He  does  not  so  readily  come  to  be- 
lieve in  a  "civilian,"  but,  when  he  does,  he 
believes  implicitly  and  like  a  dog.  I  had 
had  the  honor  of  the  friendship  of  Private 
Ortheris,  at  intervals,  for  more  than  three 
years,  and  we  had  dealt  with  each  other  aa 
man  by  man.  Consequently,  he  considered 
that  all  my  words  were  true,  and  not  spoken 
lightly. 

Mulvaney  and  I  left  him  in  the  high  grass 
near  the  river  bank,  and  went  away,  still 
keeping  to  the  high  grass,  toward  my  horse. 
The  shirt  scratched  me  horribly. 

We  waited  nearly  two  hours  for  the  dusk 
to  fall  and  allow  me  to  ride  off.  We  spoke 
of  Ortheris  in  whispers,  and  strained  our  ears 
to  catch  any  sound  from  the  spot  where  we 
had  left  him.  But  we  heard  nothing  except 
the  wind  in  the  plume-grass, 

"  I've  bruk  his  head,"  said  Mulvaney, 
earnestly,  "  time  an'  agin.  I've  nearly  kilt 
him  wid  the  belt,  an'  yet  I  can't  knock  thim 
fits  out  ov  his  soft  head.  No!  An'  he's  not 
soft,  for  he's  reasonable  an'  likely  by  natur'. 
Fwhat  is  ut?  Is  ut  his  breedin',  which  is 
nothin',  or  his  edukashin,  which  he  niver 
got?  You  thnt  think  ye  know  things,  an- 
swer me  that." 

But  I  found  no  answer.    I  was  wondering 


TFIE  MADNESS  OF  PRIVATE  ORTHERIS.      69 

how  lon.t;  Ortheris,  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
woukl  hold  out,  and  whether  I  should  be 
forced  to  help  him  to  desert,  as  I  had  given 
my  word. 

Just  as  the  dusk  shut  down  and,  with  a 
very  heavy  heart.  I  was  beginning  to  saddle 
up  my  horse,  we  heard  wikl  shouts  from  the 
rivrr. 

The  devils  had  departed  from  Private 
Stanley  Ortheris,  No.  22639,  B  Company. 
The  loneliness,  the  dusk,  and  the  waiting 
had  driven  them  out  as  I  had  hoped.  We 
set  off  at  the  double  and  found  him  plung- 
ing about  wildly  through  the  grass,  with  his 
coat  oft' — my  coat  off",  I  mean.  He  was  call- 
ing for  us  like  a  madman. 

When  we  reached  him  he  was  dripping 
with  perspiration  and  trembling  like  a  star- 
tled horse.  We  had  great  difficulty  in  sooth- 
ing him.  He  complained  that  he  was  in 
civilian  kit,  and  wanted  to  tear  my  clothes 
off  his  body.  I  ordered  him  to  strip,  and 
we  made  a  second  exchange  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

The  rasp  of  his  own  "  grayback  "  shirt  and 
the  squeak  of  his  boots  seemed  to  bring  him 
to  himself.  He  put  his  hands  before  his 
eyes  and  said : 

"  Wot  was  it?  I  'ain't  mad,  I  ain't  sun- 
strook,  an'  I've  bin  an'  gone  an'  said,  an'  bin 
an'  gone  an'  done.  .  .  Wot  'ave  I  bin  an' 
done?" 

"  Fwhat  have  you  done  ?"  said  Mulvaney. 


70  MULVANEY  STORII^. 

"  You've  dishgraced  yourself— though  that's 
no  matter.  You've  dishgraced  B  Comp'ny, 
an'  worst  av  all,  you've  dishgraced  me.  Me 
that  taught  you  how  for  to  walk  abroad  like 
a  man — whin  you  was  a  dhirt}'  little,  fish- 
backed  little,  whimperin'  little  recruity.  As 
you  are  now,  Stanley  Orth'ris  !" 

Ortheris  said  nothing  for  awhile.  Then  he 
unslung  his  belt,  heavy  with  the  badges  of 
half  a  dozen  regiments  that  his  own  had  lain 
with,  and  handed  it  over  to  Mulvaney. 

"  I'm  too  little  for  to  mill  you,  Mulvaney," 
said  he,  "  an'  j^ou've  strook  me  before ;  but 
you  can  take  an'  cut  me  in  two  with  this  'ere 
if  you  like." 

Mulvaney  turned  to  me. 

"  Lave  me  talk  to  him,  sorr,"  said  Mul- 
vane}'. 

I  left,  and  on  my  way  home  thought  a 
good  deal  over  Ortheris  in  particular,  and 
my  friend,  Private  Thomas  Atkins,  whom  I 
love,  in  general. 

But  I  could  not  come  to  any  conclusion 
of  any  kind  whatever. 


THE  SOLID  MULDOON. 

Did  you  see  John  Malone,  wid  hissliinin',  brand-new 

hat? 
Did  ye  see  how  he  walked  like  a  grand  aristocrat? 
There  was  flags  an'  banners  wavin'  high,  an'  dhress 

and  shtyle  were  shown, 
But  tlie  best  av  all  the  company  was  ^[isther  John 

Malone. 

John  MaJxme. 

This  befell  in  the  old  days,  and,  as  my 
friend  Private  Mulvaney  wa:?  specially  care- 
ful to  make  clear,  the  Unregenerate. 

There  had  been  a  royal  dog-fight  in  the 
ravine  at  the  l^ack  of  the  rifle-butts  between 
Learoyd's  Jock  and  Ortheris's  Blue  Rot — 
both  mongrel  Rampur  hounds,  chiefly  ribs 
and  teeth.  It  lasted  for  twenty  happy,  howl- 
ing minutes,  and  then  Blue  Rot  collapsed 
and  Ortheris  paid  Learoyd  three  rupees,  and 
we  were  all  very  thirsty.  A  dog-fight  is  a 
most  heating  entertainment,  quite  apart 
from  the  shouting,  because  Rampurs  fight 
over  a  couple  of  acres  of  ground.  Later, 
when  the  sound  of  belt-badges  clinking 
against  the  necks  of  beer-bottles  had  died 
away,  conversation  drifted  from  dog  to  man 
fights  of  all  kinds.  Humans  resemble  red- 
deer  in  some  respects.  Any  talk  of  fighting 
seems  to  wake  up  a  sort  of  imp   in   their 

(71) 


72  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

breasts,  and  they  bell  one  to  the  other,  ex- 
actly like  challenging  bucks.  This  is  notice- 
able even  in  men  who  consider  themselves 
superior  to  privates  in  the  line;  it  shows  the 
refining  influence  of  civilization  and  the 
march  of  progress. 

Tale  provoked  tale,  and  each  tale  more 
beer.  Even  dreamy  Learoyd's  eyes  began 
to  brighten,  and  he  unburdened  himself  of 
a  long  history  in  which  a  trip  to  Malham 
Cove,  a  girl  at  Pateley  Brigg,  a  ganger,  him- 
self and  a  pair  of  clogs  were  mixed  in  drawl- 
ing tangle. 

"  An'  so  Ah  coot's  yead  oppen  from  t' 
chin  to  t'  hair  an'  he  was  abed  for  t'  matter 
o'  a  month,"  concluded  Learoyd,  pensively. 

Mulvaney  came  out  of  a  reverie — he  was 
lying  down — and  flourished  his  heels  in  the 
air.  "You're  a  man,  Learoyd,"  said  he, 
critically,  "  but  you've  only  fought  wid  men, 
an'  that's  an  ivry-day  expayrience;  but  I've 
stud  up  to  a  ghost,  an'  that  was  not  an  ivry- 
day  expayrience." 

"No?"  said  Ortheris,  throwing  a  cork  at 
him.  "  You  git  up  an'  address  the  'ouse — 
you  an'  yer  expayriences.  Is  it  a  bigger  one 
nor  usual  ?" 

"  'Twas  the  livin'  trut'!"  answered  Mulva- 
ney, stretching  out  a  huge  arm  and  catching 
Ortheris  by  the  collar.  "  Now  where  are 
ye,  me  son?  Will  ye  take  the  wurrud  av 
the  Lorrd  out  av  my  mout  another  time?" 
He  shook  him  to  emphasize  the  question. 


TEE  SOLID  MULBOON.  TB 

"  No,  somethin'  else,  though,"  said  Orthe- 
ris,  making  a  dash  at  Mulvaney's  pipe,  cap- 
turing it,  and  holding  it  at  arm's-length  ;  I'll 
chuck  it  acrost  the  ditch  if  vou  don't  let  me 
go!"^ 

"  You  maraudin'  hathen  !  'Tis  the  only 
cutty  I  iver  loved.  Handle  her  tinder,  or 
I'll  chuck  you  acrost  the  nullah.  If  that 
poipe  was  bruk —  Ah  !  Give  her  back  to 
me,  sorr!" 

Ortheris  had  passed  the  treasure  to  my 
hand.  It  was  an  absolutely  perfect  clay,  as 
shiny  as  the  black  ball  at  pool.  I  took  it 
reverently,  but  I  was  firm. 

"  Will  you  tell  us  about  the  ghost-fight  if 
I  do?"  I  said. 

"Is  ut  the  shtory  that's  troublin' you? 
Av  course  I  will.  1  mint  to  all  along.  I 
was  only  gettin'  at  ut  my  own  way,  as  Popp 
Doggie  said  whin  they  found  him  thrying  to 
ram  a  cartridge  down  the  muzzle.  Orth'ris, 
fall  away !" 

He  released  the  little  Londoner,  took  back 
his  pipe,  filled  it,  and  his  eyes  twinkled. 
He  has  the  most  eloquent  eyes  of  any  one 
that  I  know. 

"Did  I  iver  tell  you,"  he  began,  "that  I 
was  wanst  the  divil  av  a  man?" 

"You  did,"  said  Learoyd,  with  a  childish 
gravity  that  made  Ortheris  yell  with  laugh 
ter,  for  Mulvaney  was  always  impressing 
upon  us  his  merits  in  the  old  days. 

"Did  I  iver  tell  you,"  Mulvaney  continued 


74  MUL  VA  NE  Y  STORIES. 

calmly,  ''  that  I  was  wanst  more  av  a  divil 
than  I  am  now?" 

"  Mer — ria!  You  don't  mean  it?"  said 
Ortheris. 

"Whin  I  was  corp'ril — I  was  rejuced  af- 
therwards — but,  as  I  say,  whin  I  was  cor- 
p'ril, I  was  a  divil  of  a  man." 

He  was  silent  for  nearly  a  minute,  while 
his  mind  rummaged  among  old  memories 
and  his  eye  glowed.  He  bit  upon  the  pipe- 
stem  and  charged  into  his  tale. 

"  Eyah  !  They  was  great  times.  I'm  ould 
now  ;  me  hide's  wore  off  in  patches;  sinthry- 
go  has  disconceited  me,  an'  I'm  a  married 
man  tu.  But  I've  had  my  day,  I've  had  my 
day,  an'  nothin'  can  take  away  the  taste  av 
that!  Oh,  my  time  past,  whin  I  put  me  fut 
through  ivry  livin'  wan  av  the  Tin  Com- 
mandmints  between  revelly  an'  lights  out, 
blew  the  froth  off  the  pewter,  wiped  me  mus- 
tache wid  the  back  av  me  hand,  an'  slept  on 
ut  all  as  quiet  as  a  little  child !  But  ut's 
over — ut's  over,  an'  'twill  niver  come  back 
to  me;  not  though  I  prayed  for  a  week  av 
Sundays.  Was  there  any  wan  in  the  ould 
rig'mint  to  touch  Corp'ril  Terence  Mulva- 
ney  whin  that  same  was  turned  out  for  se- 
dukshin  ?  I  niver  met  him.  Ivry  woman 
that  was  not  a  witch  was  worth  the  runnin' 
afther  in  those  days,  an'  ivry  man  was  my 
dearest  friend  or — t  had  stripped  to  him  an' 
we  knew  wliich  was  the  better  av  the  tu. 

"  ^^'hin    I  was    corp'ril   I  wud    not   ha' 


THE  SOLID  MULDOON.  75 

changed  wid  the  colonel — no,  nor  yet  the 
commander-in-chief.  I  wud  be  a  sarjint. 
There  was  nuthin'  I  wud  not  be !  Mother 
av  Hivin,  look  at  me!  Fwhat  am  I  now  ? 
But  no  mattherl  I  must  get  to  the  other 
ghosts — not  the  ones  in  my  ould  head. 

"  We  was  quartered  in  a  big  cantonmint 
— 'tis  no  manner  av  use  namin'  name?,  fur 
ut  might  give  thebarricks  disrepitation — an' 
I  was  the  imperor  av  the  earth  to  me  own 
mind,  an'  wan  or  tu  women  thought  the 
same.  Small  blame  to  thim.  Afther  we  had 
lain  there  a  year,  Bragin,  the  color-sarjint 
av  E  Comp'ny,  wint  an'  took  a  wife  that  was 
lady's-maid  to  some  big  lady  in  the  station. 
She's  dead  now,  is  Annie  Bragin — died  in 
child-bed  at  Kirpa  Tal,  or  ut  may  ha'  been 
Almorah  —  siven  —  nine  years  agone,  an' 
Bragin  he  married  ag'in.  But  she  was  a 
pretty  woman  whin  Bragin  inthrojuced  her 
to  cantonmint  society.  She  had  eyes  like 
the  brown  av  a  buttherfly's  wing  whin  the 
sun  catches  ut,  an'  a  waist  no  thicker  than 
me  arm,  an'  a  little  sof  button  av  a  mout' 
I  would  ha'  gone  through  all  Asia  bristlin' 
wid  bay 'nits  to  get  the  kiss  av.  An'  her  hair 
was  as  long  as  the  tail  av  the  colonel's 
charger — forgive  me  mintionin'  that  blun- 
derin'  baste  in  the  same  mouthfid  wid 
Annie  Bragin — but  'twas  all  shpun  gold, 
an'  time  was  whin  a  lock  av  ut  was  more 
than  di'monds  to  me.  There  was  niver 
pretty   woman   yet,   an'    I've    had    thruck 


76  M VL  VAXEY  STORIES. 

wid  a  few,  cud  open  the  door  to  Annie 
Braein. 

"  'Twas  in  the  Carth'lic  chapel  I  saw  her 
first,  me  oi  rollin'  round  as  usual  to  see 
fwhat  was  to  be  seen.  '  You're  too  good  for 
Bragin,  me  love,'  thinks  I  to  meself,  'but 
that's  a  mistake  I  can  put  straight,  or  me 
name  is  not  Terence  Mulvaney.' 

"  Now  take  my  wurrd  for  ut,  you  Orth'ris 
there  an'  Learoyd,  an'  kape  out  av  the  mar- 
ried quarters — as  I  did  not.  No  good  iver 
comes  av  ut,  an'  there's  always  the  chance 
av  your  bein'  found  wid  your  face  in  the 
dirt,  a  long  picket  in  the  back  av  your  head, 
an'  your  hands  playing  the  fifes  on  the  tread 
av  another  man's  doorstep.  'Twas  so  we 
found  O'Hara,  he  that  Rafferty  killed  six 
years  gone,  when  he  wint  to  his  death  wid 
his  hair  oiled,  whistlin'  '  Billy  O'Rourke' 
betune  his  teeth.  Kape  out  av  the  married 
quarters,  I  say,  as  I  did  not.  'Tis  onwhole- 
sim,  'tis  dangerous,  an'  'tis  ivrything  else 
that's  bad,  but —  Oh,  my  sowl,  'tis  swate 
while  it  lasts! 

"  I  was  always  hangin'  about  tliere  whin 
I  was  off  duty  an'  Bragin  wasn't,  but  niver 
a  sweet  word  be3'on'  ordinar'  did  I  get  from 
Annie  Bragin.  "Tis  the  pervarsity  av  the 
sect,'  sez  I  to  mesilf,  an'  gave  me  cap  an- 
other cock  on  me  head  an'  straightened  me 
back — 'twas  the  back  av  a  dhrum-major  in 
those  days — an'  wint  off  as  tho'  I  did  not 
care,  wid  all  the  women  in  the  married  quar- 


THE  SOLID  MULDOON.  11 

ters  laughin'.  I  Wcas  pershuaded— most  bhoys 
are,  I'm  thinkin' — that  no  woman  born  av 
woman  cud  stand  against  me  av  I  hild  up 
me  little  finger.  I  had  reason  for  thinkin' 
that  way — till  I  met  Annie  Bragin. 

"  Time  an'  ag'in  whin  I  was  blanhanderin' 
in  the  dusk  a  man  would  go  past  me  as  quiet 
as  a  cat.  'That's  quare,'  thinks  I,  'for  I 
am,  or  I  should  be,  the  only  man  in  these 
parts.  Now  what  divilment  can  Annie  be 
up  to?'  Thin  I  called  meself  a  blayguard 
for  thinkin'  such  things ;  but  I  thought  thim 
all  the  same.  An'  that,  mark  you,  is  the 
way  av  a  man. 

"  Wan  evenin'  I  said:  'Mrs.  Bragin,  ma- 
nin'  no  disrespect  to  you,  who  is  that  cor- 
p'ril  man' — I  had  seen  the  stripes  though  I 
cud  niver  get  sight  av  his  face — 'who  is  that 
corp'ril  man  that  comes  in  always  whin  I'm 
goin'  away  ?' 

"'Mother  av  God!'  sez  she,  turnin'  as 
white  as  me  belt;  '  have  you  seen  him,  too?' 

'' '  Seen  him  !'  sez  I ;  'av  coorse  I  have. 
Did  ye  want  me  not  to  see  him,  for' — we 
were  standin'  talkin'  in  the  dhark,  outside 
the  veranda  av  Bragin 's  quarters — '  you'd 
betther  tell  me  to  shut  me  eyes.  Onless 
I'm  mistaken,  he's  come  now.' 

"An",  sure  enough,  the  corp'ril  man  was 
walkin'  to  us,  hangin'  his  head  down  as 
though  he  was  ashamed  av  himsilf. 

"'Good-night,  Mrs.  Bragin,'  sez  I,  very 
cool ;  '  'tis  not  for  me  to  interfere  wid  your 


78  MULVANEV  STORIES. 

a-mnors ;  but  you  might  manage  these  things 
wid  more  dacincy.  I'm  off  to  canteen/  I 
sez. 

"  I  turned  on  my  heel  an'  wint  away, 
swearin'  I  wud  give  that  man  a  dhressin' 
that  wud  shtop  him  messin'  about  the  mar- 
ried quarters  for  a  month  an'  a  week.  I  had 
not  tuk  ten  paces  before  Annie  Bragin  was 
hangin'  on  to  me  arm,  an*  I  cud  feel  that 
she  was  shakin'  all  over. 

" '  Stay  wid  me.  Mister  Mulvaney,'  sez 
she ;  '  you're  fiesli  an'  blood,  at  the  least — 
are  ye  not?' 

"  '  I'm  all  that,'  sez  I,  an'  my  anger  wint 
away  in  a  flash.  '  Will  I  want  to  be  asked 
twice,  Annie  ?' 

"Wid  that  I  slipped  me  arm  round  her 
waist,  for,  begad,  I  fancied  she  had  surrin- 
dered  at  discretion,  an'  the  honors  av  war 
were  mine. 

" '  Fvvhat  nonsince  is  this  ?'  sez  she, 
dhrawin'  hersilf  up  on  the  tips  av  her  dear 
little  toes.  'Wid  the  mother's  milk  not  dhry 
on  your  impident  mouth  ?     Let  go  !'  she  sez. 

"  '  Did  ye  not  say  just  now  that  I  was'fiesh 
an'  blood  ?'  sez  t.  '  I  have  not  changed 
since,'  I  sez ;  an'  I  kep'  me  arm  where  ut 
was. 

" '  Your  arms  to  yoursilf !'  sez  she,  an'  her 
eyes  sparkild. 

"  '  Sure,  'tis  only  human  nature,'  sez  I ; 
an'  I  kep'  me  arm  where  ut  was. 

"  '  Nature  or  no  nature,'  sez  she,  'you  take 


THE  SOLID  MVLDOON.  79 

your  arm  away  or  I'll  tell  Bragin,  an'  he'll 
alter  the  nature  av  your  head.  Fwhat  d'you 
take  lue  for  ?'  she  sez. 

"  '  A  woman,'  sez  I  j  '  the  prettiest  in  bar- 
ricks.' 

"  '  A  wife,'  sez  she ;  '  the  straightest  in  can- 
tonmints !' 

"  Wid  that  I  dropped  me  arm,  fell  back 
tu  paces,  an'  saluted,  for  I  saw  that  she  mint 
fwhat  she  said." 

"  Then  you  know  somethino;  that  some 
men  would  give  a  good  deal  to  be  certain  of. 
How  could  you  tell?"  I  demanded,  in  the 
interests  of  science. 

"  Watch  the  hand,"  said  Mulvaney  ;  "  av 
she  shuts  her  hand  tight,  thumb  down  over 
the  knuckle,  take  up  your  hat  an'  go.  You'll 
only  make  a  fool  av  yoursilf  av  you  shtay. 
But  av  the  hand  lies  opin  on  the  lap,  or  av 
you  see  her  thryin'  to  shut  ut,  an'  she  can't 
— go  on  !     She's  not  past  reasonin'  wid. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  say  in',  I  fell  back,  saluted, 
an'  was  goin'  away. 

" '  Shtay  wid  me,'  she  sez.  '  Look  !  He's 
comin'  again.' 

"  She  pointed  to  the  veranda,  an'  by  the 
hoight  av  impart'nince,  thecorp'ril  man  was 
comin'  out  av  Bragin's  quarters. 

"  '  He's  done  that  these  five  evenin's  past,' 
sez  Annie  Bragin.     '  Oh,  fwhat  will  I  do  ?' 

'' '  He'll  not  do  ut  again,'  sez  1,  for  I  was 
fightin'  mad. 

"  Kape  away  from  a  man  that  has  been  a 


80  MULVASEY  STORIES. 

thrifle  crossed  in  love  till  the  fever's  died 
down.     He  rages  like  a  brute  baste. 

"  I  wint  up  to  the  man  in  the  veranda, 
manin',  as  sure  as  I  sit,  to  knock  the  life  out 
av  him.  He  slipped  into  the  open,  'Fwhat 
are  you  doin'  philanderin'  about  here,  ye 
soura  av  the  gutter?'  sez  I,  polite,  to  give 
him  his  warnin',  for  I  wanted  him  ready. 

"  He  niver  lifted  his  head,  but  sez,  all 
mournful  an'  melancolius,  as  if  he  thought 
I  wud  be  sorry  for  him  :  '  I  can't  find  her,' 
sez  he. 

"  '  My  troth,',  sez  I,  '  you've  lived  too  long 
— you  an'  your  seekin's  an'  flndin's  in  a  da- 
cint  married  woman's  quarters !  Hould  up 
your  head,  ye  frozen  thief  av  Genesis,'  sez  I, 
'an'  you'll  find  all  you  want  an'  more!' 

"  But  he  niver  hild  up,  an'  I  let  go  from 
the  shoulder  to  where  the  hair  is  short  over 
the  eyebrows. 

"  '  That'll  do  your  business,'  sez  I,  but  it 
nearly  did  mine  instid.  I  put  me  body- 
weight  behind  the  blow,  but  I  hit  nothin'  at 
all,  an'  near  put  my  shoulther  out.  The 
corp'ril  man  was  not  there,  an'  Annie  Bra- 
gin,  who  had  been  watchin'  from  the  ve- 
randa, throws  up  her  heels  an'  carries  on 
like  a  cock  whin  his  neck's  wrung  by  the 
dhrummer-bhoy.  I  wint  back  to  her,  for  a 
livin'  woman,  an'  a  woman  like  Annie  Bra- 
gin,  is  more  than  a  p'rade-groun'  full  av 
ghosts.  I'd  never  seen  a  woman  faint  be- 
fore, an'  I  stud  it  like  a  shtuck  calf,  askin' 


THE  SOLID  MVLDOON.  81 

herwhether  she  was  dead,  an' prayin'  her 
for  the  love  av  nie,  an'  the  love  av  her  hus- 
band, an'  the  love  av  the  Vir^rin,  to  open  her 
blessed  eyes  again,  an'  callin'  mesilf  all  the 
names  undher  the  canojiy  av  hivin  for 
plaguin'  her  wid  my  miserable  a-moors  whin 
I  ought  to  ha'  stud  betune  her  an'  this  corp'ril 
man  that  had  lost  the  number  av  his  mess. 

"  I  misremimber  fwhat  nonsince  I  said, 
but  I  was  not  so  far  gone  that  I  cud  not  hear 
a  fut  on  the  dirt  outside.  'Twas  Bragin 
comin'  in,  an'  by  the  same  token  Annie  was 
comin'  to.  I  jumped  to  the  far  end  ay  the 
veranda  an'  looked  as  if  butter  wudn't  melt 
in  me  mout'.  But  Mrs.  Quinn,  the  quar- 
ter-master's wife  that  Avas,  had  tould  Bragin 
about  me  hangin'  round  Annie. 

"'I'm  not  pleased  wid  you,  IMulvaney,' 
sez  Bragin,  unbucklin' his  sword,  for  he  had 
been  on  duty. 

"■'That's  bad  hearin',  I  sez,  an'  I  knew 
that  the  pickets  were  dhriven  in.  '  \\'hat 
for,  sarjint?'  sez  I. 

'"Come  outside,'  sez  he,  'an'  I'll  show 
you  why.' 

"'I'm  willin,' I  sez;  'but  me  stripes  are 
none  so  ould  tluit  I  can  afford  to  lose  thim. 
Tell  me  now,  who  do  I  go  out  wid?'  sez  I. 

"  He  was  a  quick  man  an'  a  just  man,  an' 
saw  fwhat  I  wud  be  afther  '  Wid  Mrs. 
Bragin's  husband,'  sez  he.  He  might  ha' 
known  by  me  askin'  that  favor  that  I  had 
done  him  no  wrong. 

6 


82  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

"  We  wint  to  the  back  av  the  arsenal  an' 
I  stripped  to  him,  an'  for  ten  minutes  'twas 
all  1  could  do  to  prevint  him  killin'  himself 
against  me  fistes.  He  was  mad  as  a  dumb 
dog — just  frothing  with  rage;  but  he  had  no 
chanst  wid  me  in  reach,  or  learnin',  or  any- 
thing else. 

"'Will  ye  hear  reason?'  sez  I,  when  his 
first  wind  was  runnin'  out. 

'' '  Not  whoile  I  can  see,'  sez  he.  Wid  that 
I  gave  him  both,  one  after  the  other,  smash 
through  the  low  gyard  that  he'd  been  taught 
whin  he  was  a  boy,  an'  the  eyebrow  shut 
down  on  the  cheek-bone  like  the  wing  of  a 
sick  crow. 

" '  Will  ye  hear  reason  now,  3'e  brave 
man?'  sez  I. 

" '  Not  whoile  I  can  speak,'  sez  he,  stag- 
gerin'  up  blind  as  a  stump.  I  was  loath  to 
do  ut,  but  I  wint  round  an'  swung  into  the 
jaw  side-on  an'  shifted  ut  a  half  pace  to  the 
lef. 

"  '  Will  you  hear  reason  now?'  sez  I ;  '  I 
can't  keep  my  timper  much  longer,  an'  'tis 
like  I  will  hurt  you.' 

" '  Not  whoile  I  can  stand,'  he  mumbles 
out  avone  corner  av  his  mouth.  So  I  closed 
an'  threw  him — blind,  dumb,  an'  sick,  an' 
jammed  the  jaw  straight. 

"  '  You're  an  ould  fool,Mister  Bragin,'  sez  I. 

" '  You're  a  young  thief,'  sez  he,  '  an'  you've 
bruk  me  heart,  you  an'  Annie  betune  you !" 

"  Thin  he  began  cryin'  like  a  child  as  he 


THE  SOLID  MULDOON.  83 

lay.  I  was  sorry  as  I  had  iiiver  been  before. 
'Tis  an  awful  thing  to  see  a  strong  man  cry. 

"  '  I'll  swear  on  the  cross,'  sez  I. 

"  '  I  care  for  none  av  your  oaths,'  sez  he. 

"  '  Come  back  to  your  quarters,'  sez  I,  *  an' 
if  you  don't  believe  the  livin',  begad,  you 
shall  listen  to  the  dead,'  I  sez. 

"  I  hoisted  him  an'  tuk  him  back  to  his 
quarters.  'Mrs.  Bragin,'  sez  I,  '  here's  a  man 
you  can  cure  quicker  than  me.' 

'* '  You've  shamed  me  before  me  wife,'  he 
whimpers. 

'' '  Have  I  so  ?'  sez  I.  '  By  the  look  on 
Mrs.  Bragin's  face  I  think  I'm  in  for  a 
dhressin'-down  worse  than  I  gave  you.' 

"  An'  I  was !  Annie  Bragin  was  woild 
wid  indignation.  There  was  not  a  name 
that  a  dacint  woman  cud  use  that  was  not 
given  my  way.  I've  had  me  colonel  walk 
roun'  me  like  a  cooper  roun'  a  cask  for  fif- 
teen minutes  in  ord'ly  room  bekaze  I  wint 
into  the  corner  shop  an  unstrapped  lewnatic, 
but  all  that  I  iver  tuk  from  his  rasp  av  a 
tongue  was  ginger-pop  to  fwhat  Annie  tould 
me.  An'  that,  mark  you,  is  the  way  av  a 
woman. 

"Whin  ut  was  done  for  want  av  breath, 
an'  Annie  was  bendin'  over  her  husband,  I 
sez  :  '  'Tis  all  thrue,  an'  I'm  a  blayguard  an' 
you're  an  honest  woman ;  but  will  you  tell 
him  of  wan  service  that  I  did  you?' 

"As  I  finished  speakin'  the  corp'ril  came 
up    to    the    veranda,    an'    Annie     Bragin 


84  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

shquealed.  The  moon  was  up,  an'  we  cud 
see  his  face. 

"'I  can't  find  her,' sez  the  corp'ril  man, 
an'  wint  out  like  the  puff  av  a  candle. 

'"Saints  stand  betune  us  an'  evil!'  sez 
Bra,2;in,  crossin'  himself;  'that's  Flahy  av 
the  Tyrone  Rig'mint.' 

" '  Who  was  he  ?'  I  sez,  '  for  he  has  given 
me  a  dale  av  fightin'  this  day.' 

"  Bragin  tould  us  that  Flahy  was  a  cor- 
p'ril who  lost  his  wife  av  cholera  in  those 
quarters  three  years  gone,  an'  wint  mad,  an' 
'  walked'  afther  they  buried  him,  huntin'  for 
her. 

"'Well,'  sez  I  to  Bragin,  'he's  been 
hookin'  out  av  purgathory  to  kape  company 
wid  Mrs.  Bragin  ivry  evcnin'  for  the  last 
fortnight.  You  may  tell  Mrs.  Quinn,  wid 
my  love,  for  I  know  that  she's  been  talkin' 
to  you,  an'  you've  been  listenin',  that  she 
ought  to  ondherstand  the  differ  'twixt  a  man 
an' a  ghost.  She's  had  three  husbands,' sez 
I, '  an'  you'v^e  got  a  wife  too  good  for  you. 
Instid  av  which  you  lave  her  to  beboddered 
by  ghosts  an' — an'  all  manner  av  evil  spir- 
ruts.  I'll  nivcr  go  talkin'  in  the  way  av  po- 
liteness to  a  man's  wife  again.  Good-night 
to  you  both,'  sez  I,  an'  wid  that  I  wint  away, 
havin'  fought  wid  woman,  man  an'  divil  all 
in  the  heart  av  an  hour.  By  the  same  token 
I  gave  Father  Victor  wan  rupee  to  say  mass 
for  Flahy's  soul,  me  bavin'  discommoded 
him  by  shticking  my  fist  into  his  systim." 


THE  SOLID  MULDOOX.  85 

"  Your  ideas  of  politeness  seem  rather 
large,  Mulvaney,"  I  said. 

"  That's  as  you  look  at  ut,"  said  Mulva- 
ney, calmly;  "Annie  Bragin  niver  cared  for 
me.  For  all  tliat,  I  did  not  want  to  leave 
anything  behin'  me  that  Bragin  could  take 
hould  av  to  be  angry  wid  her  about,  whin 
an  honu-st  wurrud  cud  ha'  cleared  all  up. 
There's  nothin'  like  opin-speakin'.  Ortli'ris, 
ye  scut,  let  me  put  me  oi  to  that  bottle,  for 
me  throat's  asdhry  as  whin  I  thought  I  wud 
get  a  kiss  from  Annie  Bragin.  An'  that's 
fourteen  years  gone!  Eyah  !  Cork's  own 
city  an'  the  blue  sky  above  ut — an'  the  times 
that  was — the  times  that  was  !" 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD. 

Der  jungere  Ulilanen 
Sit  round  mit  open  month 
While  Breitmann  tell  dem  stdories 
Of  tightin'  in  the  South  ; 
Und  gif  dem  moral  lessons, 
How  before  der  battle  pops, 
Take  a  little  prayer  to  Himmel 
Und  a  goot  long  drink  of  Schnapps. 

Huns  Breitmann' s  Ballads. 

"  Mary,  Mother  av  Mercy,  fwhat  the  divil 
possist  us  to  take  an'  kape  this  melancolius 
counthry  ?     Answer  me  that,  sorr." 

It  was  Mulvaney  who  was  speaking.  The 
hour  was  one  o'clock  of  a  stifling  hot  June 
night,  and  the  place  was  the  main  gate  of 
Fort  Araara,  most  desolate  and  least  desir- 
able of  all  the  fortresses  in  India.  What  I 
was  doing  there  at  that  hour  is  a  question 
which  only  concerns  McGrath,  the  sergeant 
of  the  guard,  and  the  men  on  the  gate. 

"Slape,"  said  Mulvaney,  "  is  a  shuparflu- 
ous  necessity.  This  gyard'll  shtay  till  re- 
lieved." He  himself  was  stripped  to  the 
waist;  Learoyd  on  the  next  bedstead  was 
dripping  from  the  skinful  of  w'ater  which  Or- 
theris,  arrayed  only  in  white  trousers,  had 
just  sluiced  over  his  shoulders ;  and  a  fourth 
(86) 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  87 

private  was  muttering  uneasily  as  he  dozed 
open-mouthed  in  the  ghire  of  the  great 
guard-lantern.  I'he  heat  under  the  bricked 
archwa}^  was  terrifying. 

"  The  worrst  night  that  iver  I  remimber. 
Eyah !  Is  all  hell  loose  this  tide?"  said 
Mulvaney.  A  put!"  of  burning  wind  lashed 
through  the  wicket-gate  like  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  and  Ortheris  swore. 

"Are  ye  more  heasy,  Jock?"  he  said  to 
Learoyd.  "  Put  yer  'ead  between  yer  legs. 
It'll  go  orf  in  a  minute." 

"  Ah  don't  care.  Ah  would  not  care,  but 
ma  heart  is  plaayin'  tivvy-tivvy  on  ma  ribs. 
Let  me  die!  Oh,  leave  me  die!"  groaned 
the  huge  Yorkshire  man,  who  was  feeling 
the  heat  acutely,  being  of  fleshly  build. 

The  sleeper  under  the  lantern  roused  for  a 
moment  and  raised  himself  on  his  elbow^ 
"Die  and  be  damned,  then  !"he  said.  "I'm 
damned  and  I  can't  die!" 

"Who's  that?"  I  whispered,  for  the  voice 
was  new  to  me. 

"  Gentleman  born,"  said  Mulvaney.  "Cor- 
p'ril  wan  year,  sarjint  nex'.  Red-hot  on  his 
c'mission,  but  dhrinks  like  a  fish.  He'll  be 
gone  before  the  cowld  weather's  here.     So  !'* 

He  slipped  his  boot,  and  with  the  naked 
toe  just  touched  the  trigger  of  his  Martini. 
Ortheris  misunderstood  the  movement,  and 
the  next  instant  the  Irishman's  rifle  was 
dashed  aside,  while  Ortheris  stood  before 
him,  his  eyes  blazing  with  reproof. 


88  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

"  You  !"  said  Ortheris.  "  My  Gawd,  you  ! 
If  it  was  you,  wot  Avould  we  do  ?" 

"  Kape  quiet,  little  man,"  said  Mulvaney, 
putting  him  aside,  but  very  gently ;  "  'tis 
not  me,  nor  will  ut  be  me  whoile  Dinah 
Shadd's  here.  I  Avas  but  showin'  some- 
thin'." 

Learoyd,  bowed  on  his  bedstead,  groaned, 
and  the  gentleman  ranker  sighed  in  his 
sleep.  Ortheris  took  Mulvaney 's  tendered 
pouch,  and  we  three  smoked  gravely  for  a 
space  while  the  dust-devils  danced  on  the 
glacis  and  scoured  the  red-hot  plain  without. 

"Pop?"  said  Ortheris,  wiping  his  fore- 
head. 

"  Don't  tantalize  wid  talkin'  av  dhrink,  or 
I'll  shtuff  you  into  your  own  breech-block 
an'  fire  you  off!"  grunted  Mulvaney. 

Ortheris  chuckled,  and  froju  a  niche  in  the 
veranda  produced  six  bottles  of  gingerade. 

"Where  did  ye  get  ut,  ye  Machiavel?" 
said  Mulvaney.     '"Tis  no  bazaar  pop." 

"  'Ow  do  Hi  know  wot  the  orf'cers  drink  ?" 
answered  Ortheris.     "Arstthe  mess-man." 

''Ye'llhave  a  disthrict  coort- martial  settin' 
on  ye  yet,  me  son,"  said  Mulvaney,  "  but" 
— he  opened  a  bottle — "  I  will  not  report  ye 
this  time.  Fwhat's  in  the  mess-kid  is  mint 
for  the  belly,  as  they  say,  'specially  whin 
that  mate  is  dhrink.  Here's  luck!  A  bloody 
war  or  a — no,  we've  got  the  sickly  season. 
War,  thin  !" — he  waved  the  innocent  "pop" 
to  the  four  quarters   of  heaven.     "Bloody 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  89 

war!  north,  east,  south  an' west !  Jock,  ye 
quakin'  hayrick,  come  an'  dhrink." 

But  Learoyd,  half  mad  with  the  fear  of 
death  presaged  in  the  swelling  veins  of  his 
neck,  was  imploring  his  Maker  to  strike  him 
dead,  and  fighting  for  more  air  between  his 
prayers.  A  second  time  Ortheris  drenched 
the  quivering  body  with  water,  and  the  giant 
revived. 

"  An'  Ah  divn't  see  thot  a  mon  is  i'  fettle 
for  gooin'  on  to  live;  an'  Ah  divn't  see  thot 
there  is  owt  for  t'  livin'  for.  Hear  now, 
lads  !  Ah'm  tired — tired.  There's  nobbut 
water  i'  ma  bones.     Let  me  die  !" 

The  hollow  of  the  arch  gave  back  Lea- 
royd's  broken  whisper  in  a  bass  boom. 
Mulvaney  looked  at  me  hopelessly,  but  I  re- 
membered how  the  madness  of  despair  had 
once  fallen  upon  Ortheris,  that  weary,  weary 
afternoon  on  the  banks  of  the  Khem.i  River, 
and  how  it  had  been  exorcised  by  the  skill- 
ful magician  Mulvaney. 

"Talk,  Terence  !"  I  said,  "or  we  shall  have 
Learoyd  slinging  loose,  and  he'll  be  worse 
than  Ortheris  was.  Talk!  He'll  answer  to 
your  voice." 

Almost  before  Ortheris  had  deftly  thrown 
all  the  rifles  of  the  guard  on  Muivane3''s 
bedstead,  the  Irishman's  voice  was  ui)lifted 
as  that  of  one  in  the  middle  of  a  story,  and, 
turning  to  me,  he  said  : 

"  In  barricks  or  out  of  it,  as  you  say,  sorr, 
an  Oirish  rig'mint  is  the  divil  an'  more.    'Tis 


90  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

only  fit  for  a  young  man  wid  eddicated 
fisteses.  Oh,  the  crame  av  disruption  is  an 
Oirish  rig' mint,  an'  rippin',  tearin',  ragin' 
scattherers  in  the  field  av  war!  My  first 
rig'mint  was  Oirish — Faynians  an'  rebils  to 
the  heart  av  their  marrow  was  they,  an'  so 
they  fought  for  the  widdy  betther  than  most, 
bein'  contrairy— Oirish.  They  was  the  Black 
Tyrone.     You've  heard  av  thim,  sorr?" 

Heard  of  them !  I  knew  the  Black  Ty- 
rone for  the  choicest  collection  of  unmiti- 
gated blackguards,  dog-stealers,  robbers  of 
hen-roosts,  assaulters  of  innocent  citizens, 
and  recklessly  daring  heroes  in  the  Army 
List.  Half  Europe  and  half  Asia  has  haJi 
cause  to  know  the  Black  Tyrone — good  luck 
be  to  their  tattered  colors  as  glory  has  ever 
been ! 

"  They  was  hot  pickils  and  ginger!  I  cut 
a  man's  head  tu  deep  wid  my  belt  in  the 
days  av  my  youth,  an',  afther  some  circum- 
stances which  I  will  oblitherate,  I  came  to 
the  ould  rig'mint,  bearin'  the  character  av  a 
man  wid  hands  an'  feet.  But,  as  I  was  goin' 
to  tell  you,  I  fell  acrost  the  Black  Tyrone 
ag'in  wan  day  whin  we  wanted  thim  power- 
ful bad.  Orth'ris,  me  son,  fwhat  was  the 
name  av  that  place  where  they  sint  wan 
comp'ny  av  us  an'  wan  av  the  Tyrone  roun' 
a  hill  an'  down  again,  all  for  to  tache  the 
Paythans  somethin' they'd  niver  learned  be- 
fore?    Afther  Ghuzni  'twas." 

"  Don't  know  what  the  bloomin'  Paythans 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  91 

called  it.  We  called  it  Silver's  Theayter. 
You  know  that,  sure  !" 

"  Silver's  Theatre — so  'twas.  A  gut  betune 
two  hills,  as  black  as  a  bucket,  an'  as  thin  as 
a  gurl's  waist.  There  was  overmany  Pay- 
thans  for  our  convaynience  in  the  gut,  an' 
begad  they  called  thimsilves  a  reserve — 
bein'  impident  by  natur  !  Our  Scotchies  an' 
lashins  av  Gurkys  was  poundin'  into  some 
Paythan  rig'mints,  I  think  'twas.  Scotchies 
an  'Gurkys  are  twins  bekaze  they're  so  on- 
like,  an'  they  get  dhrunk  together  whin  God 
plases.  Well,  as  I  was  sayin',  they  sint  wan 
conip'ny  av  the  Ouldan'  wan  av  the  Tyrone 
to  double  up  the  hill  an'  clane  out  the  Pay- 
than reserve.  OrPcers  was  scarce  in  thim 
days,  fwhat  wid  dysintry  an'  not  takin'  care 
av  thimselves,  an'  we  was  sint  out  wid  only 
wan  orfcer  for  the  comp'n^' ;  but  he  was  a 
man  that  had  his  feet  beneath  him,  an'  all 
his  teeth  in  their  sockuts." 

"Who  was  he  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Captain  O'Neil— Old  Crook— Cruik-na- 
bulleen — him  that  I  tould  ye  that  tale  av 
whin  he  was  in  Burmah.  Hah !  He  was  a 
man.  The  Tyrone  tuk  a  little  orfcer  bhoy, 
})Ut  divil  a  bit  was  he  in  command,  as  I'll 
dimonstrate  presintly.  We  an'  they  came 
over  the  brow  av  the  hill,  wan  on  each  side 
av  the  gut,  an'  there  was  that  ondacint 
reserve  waitin'  down  below  like  rats  in  a 
pit. 

"  'Howld  on,  men,'  sez  Crook,  who  tuk  a 


92  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

mother's  care  av  us  ahvaj^s.  '  Rowl  some 
rocks  on  thim  by  way  av  visitin'-kyards.' 
We  hadn't  rowled  more  than  twinty  bowl- 
ders, an'  the  Paythans  was  beginnin'  to 
swear  tremenj us,  whin  the  little  orf-cerbhoy 
av  the  Tyrone  shqueaks  out  acrost  the  val- 
ley: 'Fwhat  the  divil  an'  all  are  you  doin', 
shpoilin'  the  fun  for  my  men?  Do  ye  not 
see  they'll  stand?" 

'"Faith,  that's  a  rare  pluckt  wan!'  sez 
Crook.  'Niver  mind  the  rocks,  men.  Come 
along  down  an'  take  tay  wid  thim  !' 

"  '  There's  damned  little  sugar  in  ut !'  sez 
my  rear-rank  man;  but  Crook  heard. 

"'Have  ye  not  all  got  spoons?'  he  sez, 
laughin',  an'  down  we  wint  as  fast  as  we  cud. 
Learoyd  bein'  sick  at  the  base,  he,  av  coorse, 
was  not  there." 

"  Thot's  a  lie!"  said  Learoyd,  dragging  his 
bedstead  nearer.  '"  Ah  gotten  thot  theer,  an' 
you  knaw  it,  Mulvaney."  He  threw  up  his 
arms,  and  from  the  right  arm-pit  ran,  diago- 
nally through  the  fell  of  his  chest,  a  thin 
white  line  terminating  near  the  fourth  left 
rib. 

"My  mind's  goin',"  said  Mulvaney,  the 
unabashed.  "  Ye  were  there.  Fwhat  was 
I  thinkin'  of?  'Twas  another  man,  av 
coorse.  Well,  you'll  remimber  thin,  Jock, 
how  we  an'  the  Tyrone  met  wid  a  bang  at 
the  bottom  an'  got  jammed  past  all  movin' 
among  the  Paythans." 

•'  Ow  1  It  was  a  tight  'ole.  Hi  was  squeeged 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  93 

till  I  thought  I'd  bloomin'  well  bust,"  said 
Ortheris,  rubbing  his  stomach  meditatively. 

"  'Twas  no  place  for  a  little  man,  but  wan 
little  man" — Mulvaney  put  his  hand  on  Or- 
theris's  shoulder — "saved  the  life  av  me. 
There  weshtuck,for  divil  a  bit  did  the  Pay- 
thans  flinch,  an'  divil  a  bit  dare  we;  our 
business  bein'  to  clear  'em  out.  An'  the 
most  exthryordinar'  thing  av  all  was  that 
we  an'  they  just  rushed  into  each  other's 
arrums,  an'  there  was  no  firin'  for  a  long 
time.  Nothin'  but  knife  an'  bay'nit  when 
we  cud  get  our  hands  free ;  that  was  not 
often.  We  was  breast  on  to  thim,  an'  the 
Tyrone  was  yelpin'  behind  av  us  in  a  way  I 
didn't  see  the  lean  av  at  first.  But  I  knew 
later,  an' so  did  the  Paythans. 

'"Knee  to  knee!'  sings  out  Crook,  wid  a 
laugh  whin  the  rush  av  our  comin'  into  the 
gut  shtopped,  an'  he  was  huggin'  a  hairy 
Paythan,  neither  bein'  able  to  do  anything 
to  the  other,  tho'  both  was  wishful. 

"'  Breast  to  breast!'  he  says,  as  the  T3'rone 
was  pushin'  us  forward  closer  an'  closer, 

"'  An'  ban'  over  back!'  sez  a  sarjint  that 
was  behin'.  I  saw  a  sword  lick  out  past 
Crook's  ear  like  a  snake's  tongue,  an'  the 
Paythan  was  tuk  in  the  apple  av  his  throat 
like  a  pig  at  Dromeen  fair. 

"  '  Thank  ye.  Brother  Inner  Guard,'  sez 
Crook,  cool  as  a  cucumber  widout  salt.  '  I 
wanted  that  room.'  An'  he  wint  forward  by 
the  thickness    av    a    man's    body,    havin' 


94  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

turned  the  Paythan  undher  him.  The  man 
bit  the  heel  off  Crook's  boot  in  his  death- 
bite. 

"'Push,  men!'  sez  Crook.  'Push,  ye 
paper-backed  beojgars !'  he  sez.  '  Am  I  to 
pull  ye  through?'  So  we  pushed,  an'  we 
kicked,  an'  we  swung,  an'  we  swore,  an'  the 
grass  bein'  slippery,  our  heels  wouldn't  bite, 
an'  God  help  the  front-rank  man  that  wint 
down  that  day  !" 

"  'Ave  you  ever  bin  in  the  pit  hentrance 
o'  the  Vic.  on  a  thick  night?"  interrupted 
Ortheris.  "  It  was  worse  nor  that,  for  they 
was  goin'  one  way,  an'  we  wouldn't  'ave  it. 
Leastaways,  Hi  'adn't  much  to  say." 

"  Faith,  me  son,  ye  said  ut,  thin.  I  kep' 
the  little  man  betune  my  knees  as  long  as  I 
cud,  but  he  was  pokin'  roun'  wid  his  bay'- 
nit,  blindin'  an'  stiffin'  feroshus.  The  divil 
of  a  man  is  Orth'ris  in  a  ruction — aren't 
ye?"  said  Mulvaney. 

"  Don't  make  game !"  said  the  cockney. 
"  I  knowed  I  wasn't  no  good  then,  but  I  guv 
'em  compot  from  the  lef  flank  when  we 
opened  out.  No!"  he  said,  bringing  doAvn 
his  hand  with  a  thump  on  the  bedstead,  "a 
bay 'nit  ain't  no  good  to  a  little  man — might 
as  well  'ave  a  bloomin'  fishin'-rod!  I  'ate 
a  clawin',  maulin'mess,  but  gimme  a  breech 
that's  wore  out  a  bit,  an'  hamminition  one 
year  in  store,  to  let  the  powder  kiss  the  bul- 
let, an'  put  me  somewheres  where  I  ain't 
trod  on  by  'ulkin  swine  like  you,  an'  s'elp 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  95 

me  Gawd,  I  co^ild  bowl  you  over  five  times 
outer  seven  at  height  'undred.  Would  yer 
try,  you  lumberin'  Hirishman?" 

"  No,  ye  wasp.  I've  seen  ye  do  ut.  I  say 
there's  nothin'  better  than  the  bay'nit,  wid 
a  long  reach,  a  double  twist  av  ye  can,  an'  a 
slow  recover." 

"  Dom  the  bay'nit,"  said  Learoyd,  who 
had  been  listening  intently.  "  Look  a-here !" 
He  ])i('lved  up  a  rifle  an  inch  below  the 
foresight  with  an  underhanded  action,  and 
used  it  exactly  as  a  man  would  use  a  dagger, 

"Sitha,"  said  he,  softly,  "  thot's  better 
than  owt,  for  a  mon  can  bash  t'  faace  wi'  thot, 
an',  if  he  divn't,  he  can  breeak  t'  forearm  o'  t' 
gaard.  'Tis  not  i'  t'  books,  though.  Give 
me  t'  butt." 

"  Each  does  ut  his  own  way,  like  makin' 
love,"  said  Mulvaney,  quietly  ;  "the  butt  or 
the  bay'nit  or  the  bullet  accordin'  to  the 
natur'  av  the  man.  Well,  as  I  was  sayin', 
we  shtuck  there  breathin'  in  each  other's 
faces  an'  swearin'  powerful,  Orth'ris  cursin' 
the  mother  that  bore  him  bekaze  he  was  not 
three  inches  taller. 

"  Prisintly  he  sez:  'Duck,  ye  lump,  an'  I 
can  get  at  a  man  over  your  shouldher  !" 

"  '  You'll  blow  me  head  off,'  I  sez,  throwin' 
me  arm  clear  ;  'go  through  under  me  arm- 
pit, ye  blood-thirsty  little  scut,'  sez  I,  '  but 
don't  shtick  me  or  I'll  wring  your  ears 
round.' 

"  Fwhat  was  ut  ye  gave  the  Pay  than  man 


96  MUL  VAXEY  S TORIES. 

forninst  me,  him  that  cut  ;it  me  Avhin  I 
cudn't  move  hand  or  foot?  Hot  or  cowld 
was  ut  ?" 

"  Cold,"  said  Ortheris,  "  up  an'  under  the 
rib-jint.  'E  come  down  flat.  Be^t  for  you 
'e  did." 

"  Thrue,  me  son  !  This  jam  thing  that 
I'm  talkin'  about  lasted  for  five  minutes 
good,  an'  thin  we  got  our  arms  clear  an' 
wint  in.  I  misremirnber  exactly  fwhat  I 
did,  but  I  didn't  want  Dinah  to  be  a  widdy 
at  the  Depot.  Thin,  after  some  promishku- 
ous  hackin'  we  shtuck  again,  an' the  Tyrone 
behin'  was  callin'  us  dogs  an'  cowards  an' 
all  manner  av  names ;  we  barrin'  their  way. 

"'Fwhat  ails  the  Tyrone?'  thinks  I; 
'they've  the  makin's  av  a  most  convanient 
fight  here.' 

"  '  A  man  behind  me  sez  beseechful  an'  in 
a  whisper  :  'Let  me  get  at  thim  !  For  the 
love  of  Mary  give  me  room  beside  3"e,  ye  tall 
man!' 

"  'An' who  are  you  that's  so  anxious  to  be 
kilt?'  sez  I,  widout  turnin'  my  head,  for  the 
long  knives  was  dancin'  in  front  like  the  sun 
on  Donegal  Bay  whin  ut's  rough. 

"  '  We've  seen  our  dead,'  he  sez,  squeezin' 
into  me;  'our  dead  that  was  men  two  days 
gone!  An'  me  that  was  his  cousin  by  blood 
could  not  bring  Tim  Qoulan  off!  Let  me 
get  on,'  he  sez, '  let  me  get  to  thim  or  I'll  run 
ye  through  the  back  !' 

" '  My  troth,'  thinks  I,  '  if  the  Tyrone  have 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUAKD.  d i 

seen  their  dead,  God  help  the  Paythans  this 
day  !'  An'  thin  I  knew  why  the  Oirish  was 
ragin'  behind  us  as  they  was. 

*'  I  gave  room  to  the  man,  an'  he  ran  for- 
ward wid  the  Haymakers'  Lift  on  liis  bay'nit 
an'  swung  a  Paytlian  clear  oti'his  feet  by  the 
belly-band  av  the  brute,  an'  the  iron  bruk  at 
the  lockin'-ring. 

"  '  Tim  Coulan  '11  slape  aisy  to-night,'  sez 
he  wid  a  grin  ;  an'  the  next  minut  his  head 
was  in  two  halves  an'  he  wint  down  grinnin' 
by  sections. 

"  The  Tyrone  was  pushin'  an',  pushin'  in, 
an'  our  men  was  swearin'  at  thim,  an'  Crook 
was  workin'  away  in  front  av  us,  his  sword- 
arm  swingin'  like  a  pump-handle  an'  his  re- 
volver spittin'  like  a  cat.  But  the  strange 
thing  av  ut  was  the  quiet  that  lay  upon. 
'Twas  like  a  fight  in  a  drame — except  for 
thim  that  was  dead. 

"  Whin  I  gave  room  to  the  Oirishman  I 
was  expinded  an'  forlorn  in  my  inside.  'Tis 
a  way  I  have,  savin'  your  prisince,  sorr,  in 
action.  '  Let  me  out,  bhoys,'  sez  I,  backin' 
in  among  thim.  'I'm  goin' to  be  onwell!' 
Faith  the)''  gave  me  room  at  the  wurrud, 
though  they  would  not  ha' given  room  for  all 
hell  wid  the  chill  off.  Whin  I  got  clear,  I 
was,  savin'  your  prisince,  sorr,  outragis  sick 
bekaze  I  had  dhrunk  heavy  that  day, 

"  Well  an'  far  out  av  harm  was  a  sarjint 
av  the  Tyrone  sittin'  on  the  little  orf'cer 
bhoy  who  had  stopped  Crook  from  rowlin' 
7 


•98  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

the  rocks.  Oh,  lie  was  a  beautiful  bhoy,  an' 
the  long  black  curses  was  slidin'  out  av  his 
innocint  mouth  like  mornin'-jew  from  a 
rose ! 

'' '  Fwhat  have  you  got  there  ?'  sez  I  to  the 
sarjint. 

"  '  Wan  av  her  majesty's  bantams  wid  his 
spurs  up,'  sez  he.  '  He's  goin'  to  coort-mar- 
tial  me.' 

"  '  Let  me  go  !'  sez  the  little  orf'cer  bhoy. 
'  Let  me  go  an'  command  me  men  !'  mainin' 
thereby  the  Black  Tyrone,  which  was  beyond 
any  command — ay,  even  av  they  had  made 
the  divil  a  field-orf'cer. 

"  '  His  father  howlds  me  mother's  cow- 
feed  in  Clonmel,'  sez  the  man  that  was  sit- 
tin'  on  him.  '  Will  I  go  back  to  his  mother 
an'  tell  her  that  I've  let  him  throw  himself 
away?  Lie  still,  ye  little  pinch  of  dyna- 
mite, an'  coort-martial  me  aftherwards.' 

'''Good,'  sez  I;  ''tis  the  likes  av  him 
makes  the  likes  av  the  commandher-in  chief, 
but  Ave  must  presarve  thim.  Fwhat  d'  you 
want  to  do,  sorr  ?'  sez  I,  very  politeful. 

"  '  Kill  the  beggars — kill  the  beggars  !'  he 
shqueaks,  his  blue  eyes  fairly  brimmin'  wid 
tears. 

"  '  An'  how'll  ye  do  that  ?'  sez  I.  '  You've 
shquibbed  off  your  revolver  like  a  child  wid 
a  cracker ;  you  can  make  no  play  wid  that 
fine  large  sword  av  yours  ;  an'  your  hand's 
shakin'  like  an  asp  on  a  leaf.  Lie  still  and 
grow,'  sez  I. 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  99 

"'Get  back  to  your  comp'ny,'  sez  he; 
'you're  insolint !' 

"  '  All  in  good  time,'  sez  I ;  'but  I'll  have 
a  dlirink  first." 

"  Just  thin  Crook  comes  up,  blue  an' 
white  all  over  where  he  wasn't  red. 

"  '  Wather  !'  sez  he  ;  '  I'm  dead  wid  drouth  ! 
Oh,  but  it's  a  gran'  day  !' 

"  He  dhrank  half  a  skinful,  and  the  rest 
he  tilts  into  his  chest,  an'  it  fair  hissed  on 
the  hairy  hide  av  him.  He  sees  the  little 
orfcer  bhoy  undher  the  sarjint. 

'"  Fwat's  yonder?'  sez  he. 

"'Mutiny,  sorr,'  sez  the  sarjint,  an'  the 
orfcer  bhoy  begins  pleadin'  pitiful  to  Crook 
to  be  let  go ;  but  divil  a  bit  wud  Crook  budge. 

"'  Kape  him  there,'  he  sez;  '  'tis  no  child's 
work  this  day.  By  the  same  token,'  sez  he, 
'  I'll  confishcate  that  iligant  nickel-plated 
scent-sprinkler  av  yours,  for  me  own  has 
been  vomitin'  dishgraceful !' 

"The  fork  av  his  hand  was  black  wid  the 
back-spit  of  the  machine.  So  he  tuk  the 
orfcer  bhoy's  revolver.  Ye  may  look,  sorr, 
but,  by  me  faith,  there's  a  dale  more  done 
in  the  field  than  iver  gets  into  field  ordhers ! 

'"Come  on,  IVIulvaney,'  sez  Crook;  'is 
this  a  coort-martial?'  The  two  av  us  wint 
back  together  into  the  mess  an'  the  Paythans 
were  still  standin'  up.  They  was  not  too 
impart'nint  though,  for  the  Tyrone  was 
callin'  wan  to  another  t^i  remimber  Tim 
Coulan. 


100  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

"  Crook  stopped  outside  av  the  strife  an' 
looked  anxious,  his  eyes  rollin'  roun'. 

"  '  Fwhat  is  ut,  sorr  ?'  sez  I ;  '  can  I  get  ye 
anything  ?' 

"  '  Where's  a  bugler  ?'  sez  he. 

"  I  wint  into  the  crowd — our  men  was 
dhrawin'  breath  behin'  the  Tyrone  who  was 
fightin'  like  sowls  in  tormint — an'  prisintly 
I  came  acrost  little  Frehan,  our  bugler 
bhoy,  pokin'  roun'  among  the  best  wid  a  rifle 
an'  bay 'nit. 

"'  Is  amusin'  yoursilf  fwhat  you're  paid 
for,  ye  limb?'  sez  I,  catchin'  him  by  the 
scruff.  '  Come  out  av  that  an'  attind  to  your 
duty,'  I  sez ;  but  the  bhoy  was  not  pleased. 

"  '  I've  got  wan,'  sez  he,  grinnin',  '  big  as 
you,  Mulvaney,  an'  fair  half  as  ugly.  Let 
me  go  get  another.' 

"  I  was  dish  pleased  at  the  personability 
av  that  remark,  so  I  tucks  him  under  me 
arm  an'  carries  him  to  Crook,  who  was 
watchin'  how  the  fight  wint.  Crook  cuffs 
him  till  the  bhoy  cries,  an'  thin  sez  nothin' 
for  a  whoile. 

"  The  Paythans  began  to  flicker  onaisy, 
an' our  men  roared.  '  Opin  ordher!  Dou- 
ble!' sez  Crook.  '  Blow,  child,  blow  for  the 
honor  av  the  British  arrmy  !' 

"  That  bhoy  blew  like  a  typhoon,  an'  the 
Tyrone  an'  we  opined  out  as  the  Paythans 
broke,  an'  I  saw  that  fwhat  had  gone  before 
wud  be  kissin'  an'  huggin'  to  fwhat  was  to 
come.     We'd  dhruv  thim  into  a  broad  part 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  101 

av  the  gut  whin  they  gave,  and  thin  we 
opined  out  an'  fair  danced  down  the  valley, 
dhrivin'  thim  before  us.  Oh,  'twas  lovely, 
an'  stiddy,  too  !  There  was  the  sarjints  on 
the  flanks  av  what  was  left  av  us,  kopin' 
touch,  an'  the  fire  was  runnin'  from  flank  to 
flank,  an'  the  Paythanswas  dhroppin'.  We 
opined  out  wid  the  widenin'  av  the  valley, 
an'  whin  the  valley  narrowed  we  closed  again 
like  the  shticks  on  a  lady's  fan,  an'  at  the 
far  ind  av  the  gut  where  they  thried  to 
stand  we  fair  blew  them  off  their  feet,  for 
we  had  expinded  very  little  ammunition  by 
reason  av  the  knife  work." 

"Hi  used  thirty  rounds  goin'  down  that 
valley,"  said  Ortheris,  "an'  it  was  gentle- 
man's work.  Might  'a'  done  it  in  a  white 
'andkerchief  an'  pink  silk  stockin's,  that 
part.     Hi  was  on  in  that  piece." 

"You  could  ha'  heard  the  Tyrone  yellin' 
a  mile  away,"  said  Mulvaney,  "  an'  'twas  all 
their  sarjints  cud  do  to  get  thim  off.  They 
M'as  mad — mad — mad  1  Crook  sits  down  in 
the  quiet  that  fell  whin  we  had  gone  down 
the  valley,  an'  covers  his  fiice  wid  his  hands. 
Prisintly  we  all  came  back  accordin'  to  our 
natures  and  disposishins,  for  they,  mark  you, 
shoAV  through  the  hide  av  a  man  in  that 
hour. 

'"  Bhoys  1  bhoys  !'  sez  Crook  to  himself. 
'  I  misdoubt  we  could  ha'  engaged  at  long 
range  an'  saved  betther  men  than  me.'  He 
looked  at  our  dead  an'  said  no  more. 


102  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

"  '  Captain  dear,'  sez  a  man  av  the  Tyrone 
comin'  up  wid  his  mouth  bigger  than  iver 
his  mother  kissed  ut,  spittin'  blood  like  a 
whale;  'captain,'  sez  he,  'if  wan  or  two  in 
the  sthalls  have  been  discommoded,  the  gal- 
lery have  enjoyed  the  performinces  av  a 
Roshus.' 

"  Thin  I  knew  that  man  for  the  Dublin 
dock-rat  he  was — wan  of  the  bhoys  that 
made  the  lessee  av  Silver's  Theatre  gray  be- 
fore his  time  wid  tearin'  out  the  bowils  av 
the  benches  an'  t'rowin'  thim  into  the  pit. 
So  I  passed  the  wurrud  that  I  knew  when  I 
was  in  the  Tyrone  an'  we  lay  in  Dublin.  '  I 
don't  know  who  'twas,'  I  whispers,  '  an'  I 
don't  care,  but  any  ways  I'll  knock  the  face 
av  you,  Tim  Kelley." 

"'Eyah!'  sez  the  man,  'was  you  there, 
too?  We'll  call  ut  Silver's  Theatre.'  Half 
the  Tyrone,  knowin'  the  ould  place,  tuk  ut 
up;  so  we  called  it  Silver's  Theatre. 

"  The  little  orf'cer  hhoy  av  the  Tyrone 
was  thrimblin'  an'  cryin'.  He  had  no  heart 
for  the  coort-martials  that  he  talked  so  big 
upon.  '  Ye' 11  do  well  later,'  sez  Crook,  very 
quiet,  '  for  not  bein'  allowed  to  kill  your- 
self for  amusemint.' 

" '  I'm  a  dishgraced  man !'  sez  the  little 
orf  cer  bhoy. 

"'  Put  me  undher  arrest,  sorr,  if  you  will, 
but,  by  me  sowl,  I'd  do  ut  again  sooner  than 
face  your  mother  wid  you  dead,'  sez  the  sar- 
jint  that  had  sat  on  his  head,  standin'  to 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  103 

attention  an'  salutin'.  But  the  young  wan 
only  cried  as  tho'  his  little  heart  was 
breakin'. 

"  Thin  another  man  av  the  Tyrone  came 
up,  wid  the  fog  av  fightin'  on  him." 

"The  what,  Mulvaney?" 

"  Fog  av  fightin'.  You  know,  sorr,  that, 
like  makin  luv,  ut  takes  each  man  dif- 
f'rint.  Now,  I  can't  help  bein'  powerful 
sick  whin  I'm  in  action.  Orth'ris,  here, 
niver  stops  swearin'  from  ind  to  ind,  an'  the 
only  time  that  Learoyd  opins  his  mouth  to 
sing  is  whin  he  is  messin'  wid  other  people's 
heads;  for  he's  a  dhirty  fighter  is  Jock  Lea- 
royd. Recruities  sometime  cry,  an'  some- 
time they  don't  know  fwhat  they  do,  an' 
sometime  they  are  all  for  cuttin'  throats,  an' 
such  like  dirtiness ;  but  some  men  get 
heavy-head-dhrunk  on  the  fightin'.  This 
man  was.  He  was  staggerin',  an'  his  eyes 
were  half  shut'  an'  we  cud  hear  him  dhraw 
breath  twint}^  yards  away.  He  sees  the 
little  orf'cer  bhoy,  an'  comes  up,  talkin' 
thick  an'  drowsy  to  himsilf.  '  Blood  the 
young  whelp!'  he  sez ;  'blood  the  young 
whelp  ;'  an'  wid  that  he  threw  up  his  arms, 
shpun  roun',  an'  dropped  at  our  feet,  dead 
as  a  Paythan,  an'  there  was  niver  sign  or 
scratch  on  him.  They  said  'twas  his  heart 
was  rotten,  but  oh,  'twas  a  quare  thing  to 
see  I 

"  Thin  we  wint  to  bury  our  dead,  for  we 
wud  not  lave  them  to  the  Paythans,  an'  in 


104  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

movin'  amono;  the  haythen  we  nearly  lost 
that  little  orf'cer  bhoy.  He  was  for  givin' 
wan  divil  wather  and  layin'  him  aisy  against 
a  rock.  '  Be  careful,  sorr,'  sez  I ;  '  a  wounded 
Paythan's  worse  than  a  live  wan.'  My 
troth,  before  the  words  was  out  of  me  mouth, 
the  man  on  the  ground  fires  at  the  orf'cer 
bhoy  lanin'  over  him,  an'  I  saw  the  helmit 
fly.  I  dropped  the  butt  on  the  face  av  the 
man  an'  tuk  his  pistol.  The  little  orfcer 
bhoy  turned  very  white,  for  the  hair  av  half 
his  head  was  singed  away. 

"  '  I  tould  you  so,  sorr !'  sez  I ;  an'  afther 
that,  whin  he  wanted  to  help  a  Paythan  I 
stud  wid  the  muzzle  contagious  to  the  ear. 
They  dare  not  do  anythin'  but  curse.  The 
Tyrone  was  growlin'  like  dogs  over  a  bone 
that  had  been  taken  away  too  soon,  for  they 
had  seen  their  dead  an'  they  wanted  to  kill 
ivry  sowl  on  the  ground.  Crook  tould  thim 
that  he'd  blow  the  hide  off  any  man  that 
misconducted  himself;  but,  seeing  that  ut 
was  the  first  time  the  Tyrone  had  iver  seen 
their  dead,  I  do  not  wondher  they  were  on 
the  sharp.  'Tis  a  shameful  sight!  Whin  I 
first  saw  ut  I  wud  niver  ha'  given  quarter  to 
any  man  north  of  the  Khaibar — no,  nor 
woman  either,  for  the  women  used  to  come 
out  afther  dhark — Auggrh  ! 

"  Well,  evenshually  we  buried  our  dead 
an'  tuk  away  our  wounded,  an'  come  over 
the  brow  av  the  hills  to  see  the  Scotchies  an' 
the  Gurkys  taking  tay  wid  tlie  Paythans  in 


I 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  105 

biicketsfuls.  We  were  a  gang  av  dissolute 
ruffians,  for  the  blood  had  caked  the  dust, 
an'  the  sweat  had  cut  the  cake,  an'  our  bay'- 
nits  was  hangin'like  butcher's  steels  betune 
our  legs,  an'  most  av  us  were  marked  one  way 
or  another. 

"  A  staff  orf'cer  man,  clean  as  a  new  rifle, 
rides  up  an'  sez :  *  What  damned  scarecrows 
are  you?' 

"'  A  company  av  her  majesty's  Black  Ty- 
rone, an'  Avan  av  the  ould  rig'mint,'  sez 
Crook  very  quiet,  givin'  our  visitor  the  fiure 
as  'twas. 

" '  Oh !'  sez  the  staff  orf'cer,  '  did  you  dis- 
lodge that  reserve?' 

"  '  No  !'  sez  Crook,  an'  the  Tyrone  laughed. 

" '  Thin  fwhat  the  divil  have  ye  done  ?' 

"'Disthroyed  ut,' sez  Crook,  an'  he  took 
us  on,  but  not  before  Toomey  that  was  in  the 
Tyrone  sez  aloud,  his  voice  somewhere  in 
his  stummick  :  '  Fwhat  in  the  name  av  mis- 
fortune does  this  parrit  widout  a  tail  mane 
by  shtoppin'  the  road  av  his  betthers?' 

"The  staff  orf'cer  wint  blue,  and  Toome}^ 
makes  him  pink  by  changin'  to  the  voice  av 
a  minowderin'  woman  an'  savin':  'Come 
an' kiss  me,  major  dear,  forme  husband's  at 
the  wars,  an'  I'm  all  alone  at  the  depot.' 

"  The  staff  orf'cer  wint  awaj^  an'  I  cud  see 
Crook's  shoulthers  shakin'. 

*'  His  cor])'ril  checks  Toomey.  'Lave  me 
alone,'  sez  Toomey,  widout  a  wink.  "  I  was 
his  batman   before  he  was  married  an'  he 


106  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

knows  fwhat  I  mane,  avyou  don't.  There's 
nothin'  like  livin'  in  the  hoight  av  society. 
D'you  reniimber  that,  Orth'ris?' 

" '  Hi  do,  Toomey  ;  'e  died  in  'orspital,  next 
week  it  was,  'cause  I  bought  'arf  his  kit;  an' 
I  remember  after  that — ' " 

"  Guard,  turn  out  !" 

The  relief  had  come;  it  was  four  o'clock. 
"I'll  catch  a  kyart  for  3'ou,  sorr,"  said  Mul- 
vaney,  diving  hastily  into  his  accouter- 
ments.  "  Come  up  to  the  top  av  the  fort  an' 
we'll  pershue  our  invistigations  into  Mc- 
Grath's  shtable."  The  relieved  guard 
strolled  round  the  main  bastion  on  its  way 
to  the  swimming-bath,  and  Learoyd  grew 
almost  talkative.  Ortheris  looked  into  the 
fort  ditch  and  across  the  plain.  "Ho!  it's 
weary  waitin'  for  Ma-ary  !"  he  hummed ; 
"  but  I'd  like  to  kill  some  more  bloomin' 
Paythans  before  my  time's  up.  War! 
Bloody  war !     North,  east,  south  and  west." 

"Amen,"  said  Learoyd,  slowly. 

"  Fwhat's  here  ?"  said  IVIulvaney,  checking 
at  a  blur  of  white  by  the  foot  of  the  old  sentry 
box.  He  stooped  and  touched  it.  "  It's 
Norah — Norah  McTaggart !  Why,  Nonie 
darlin',  fwhat  are  ye  doin'  out  av  your 
mother's  bed  at  this  time?" 

The  two-year-old  child  of  Sergeant  Mc- 
Taggart must  have  wandered  for  a  breath  of 
cool  air  to  the  very  verge  of  the  parapet  of 
the  fort  ditch.  Her  tiny  night-shift  was 
gathered  into  a  wisp  round  her  neck  and  she 


WITH  THE  MAIN  GUARD.  107 

moaned  in  her  sleep.  "See  there  I"  said 
Mulvaney  ;  "  poor  lamb  !  Look  at  the  heat- 
rash  on  the  innocent  skin  av  her.  'Tis  hard 
— crool  hard  even  for  us.  Fwhat  must  it  be 
for  these  ?  Wake  up,  Nonie,  your  mother 
will  be  woild  about  you.  Begad,  the  child 
mieht  ha'  fallen  into  the  ditch  !" 

He  picked  her  up  in  the  growing  light, 
and  set  her  on  his  shoulder,  and  her  fair 
curls  touched  the  grizzled  stubble  of  his 
temples.  Ortheris  and  Learoyd  followed, 
snapping  their  fingers,  while  Norah  smiled 
at  them  a  sleepy  smile.  Then  caroled  Mul- 
vaney, clear  as  a  lark,  dancing  the  baby  on 
his  arm : 

''If  any  young  man  should  marry  you, 
Say  nothin'  about  the  joke  ; 
That  iver  ye  slep'  in  a  sinthry  box, 
Wrapped  up  in  a  soldier's  cloak." 

"Though,  on  me  sowl,  Nonie,"  he  said, 
gravely,  "there  was  not  much  cloak  about 
you.  Niver  mind,  you  won't  dhress  like 
this  ten  years  to  come.  Kiss  your  friends 
an'  run  along  to  your  mother." 

Nonie,  set  down  close  to  the  married 
quarters,  nodded  with  the  quiet  obedience 
of  the  soldier's  child,  but,  ere  she  pattered 
off  over  the  flagged  path,  held  up  her  lips  to 
be  kissed  by  the  three  musketeers.  Ortlieris 
wiped  his  mouth  with  the  back  of  his  hand 
and  swore  sentimentally  ;  Learoyd  turned 
pink ;  and  the  two  Avalked  away  together. 


108  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

The  Yorkshireman  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
gave  in  thunder  the  chorus  of  "  The  Sentry 
Box,"  while  Ortheris  piped  at  his  side. 

"  'Bin  to  a  bloomin'  sing-song,  you  two  ?" 
said  the  artilleryman,  who  Avas  taking  his 
cartridge  down  to  the  iSIorning  Gun.  "  You're 
overmerry  for  these  dashed  days." 

"  I  bid  ye  take  care  o'  the  brat,  said  he, 
For  it  comes  of  a  noble  race," 

bellowed  Learoyd.  The  voices  died  out  in 
the  swimming-bath, 

"  Oh,  Terence !"  I  said,  dropping  into  Mul- 
vaney's  speech,  when  we  were  aloiie,  *' it's 
you  that  have  tlie  tongue  !" 

He  looked  at  me  wearily  ;  his  eyes  were 
sunk  in  his  head,  and  his  face  was  drawn 
and  white.  "Eyah!"  said  he;  "I've  blan- 
dandhered  thim  through  the  night  somehow, 
but  can  thim  that  helps  others  help  thim- 
selves?     Answer  me  that,  sorr  !" 

And  over  the  bastions  of  Fort  Amara 
broke  the  pitiless  day. 


BLACK  JACK. 

To  the  wake  av  Tim  O'Hara 

Came  company, 
All  St.  Patrick's  Alley 

Was  there  to  see. 

The  Wake  of  Tim  CHara. 

There  is  a  writer  called  Mr.  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson,  who  makes  most  delicate  inlay- 
work  in  black  and  white,  and  files  out  to 
the  fraction  of  a  hair.  He  has  written  a 
story  about  a  suicide  club,  wherein  men 
gambled  for  death,  because  other  amuse- 
ments did  not  bite  sufficiently.  My  friend 
Private  Mulvaney  knows  nothing  about  Mr. 
Stevenson,  but  he  once  assisted  informally 
at  a  meeting  of  almost  such  a  club  as  that 
gentleman  has  described  :  and  his  words  are 
true. 

As  the  Three  Musketeers  share  their  silver, 
tobacco,  and  liquor  together,  as  they  protect 
each  other  in  barracks  or  camp,  and  as  they 
rejoice  together  over  the  joy  of  one,  so  do 
they  divide  their  sorrows.  When  Ortheris's 
irrepressible  tongue  has  brought  him  into 
cells  for  a  season,  or  Learoyd  has  run  amuck 
through  his  kit  and  accouterments,  or  Mul- 
vaney has  indulged  in  strong  waters,  and 
under  their  influence    reproved    his   com- 

(109) 


110  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

manding  officer,  you  can  see  the  trouble  in 
the  faces  of  the  untouched  twain.  And  the 
rest  of  the  regiment  know  that  comment  or 
jest  is  unsafe.  Generally  the  three  avoid 
orderly-room  and  the  corner  shop  that  fol- 
lows, leaving  both  to  the  young  bloods  who 
have  not  sown  their  wild  oats;  but  there  are 
occasions  .  .  .  For  instance,  Ortheris  was 
sitting  on  the  new  draw-bridge  of  the  main 
gate  of  Fort  Amara,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  his  pipe,  bowl  down,  in  his 
mouth.  Learoyd  was  lying  at  full  length 
on  the  turf  of  the  glacis,  kicking  his  heels 
in  the  air,  and  I  came  round  the  corner  and 
asked  for  Mulvaney. 

Ortheris  spat  into  the  ditch  and  shook  his 
head.  "No  good  seein'  'im  now,"  said  Or- 
theris;  'e's  a  bloomin'  camel.     Listen." 

I  heard  on  the  flags  of  the  veranda  oppo- 
site to  the  cells,  which  are  close  to  the  guard- 
room, a  measured  step  that  I  could  have 
identified  in  the  tramp  of  an  army.  There 
were  twenty  paces  crescendo,  a  pause,  and 
then  twenty  diiuinuendo. 

"  That's  'im,"  said  Ortheris  ;  "my  Gawd, 
that's  'im!  All  for  a  bloomin'  button  you 
could  see  your  face  in  an'  a  bit  o'  lip  that  a 
bloomin'  harkangel  would  'a'  guv  back." 

Mulvaney  was  doing  pack-drill — was  com- 
pelled, that  is  to  say,  to  walk  up  and  down 
for  certain  hours  in  full  marching  order, 
with  rifle,  bayonet,  ammunition,  knapsack, 
and   overcoat.     And  his  offense  was  being 


BLACKJACK.  Ill 

dirty  on  parade  !  I  nearly  fell  into  the  fort 
ditch  with  astonishment  and  wrath,  for 
Mulvaney  is  the  smartest  man  that  ever 
mounted  guard,  and  would  as  soon  think 
of  turning  out  uncleanly  as  of  dispensing 
with  his  trousers. 

"  Who  was  the  sergeant  that  checked 
him?"  I  asked. 

"  Mullins,  o'  course,"  said  Ortheris. 
•'There  ain't  no  other  man  would  whip  'im 
on  the  peg  so.  But  Mullins  ain't  a  man. 
'E's  a  dirty  little  pig-scraper,  that's  wot  'e 
is." 

"  What  did  Mulvaney  say  ?  He's  not  the 
make  of  man  to  take  that  quietly." 

"  Said  !  Bin  better  for  'im  if  'e'd  shut  'is 
mouth.  Lord,  'ow  we  laughed  !  '  Sarjint,' 
'e  sez,  *ye  say  I'm  dirty.  Well,'  sez  'e, 
'  when  your  wife  lets  you  blow  your  own 
nose  for  yourself,  perhaps  you'll  know  what 
dirt  is.  You're  him  perfectly  eddicated,  sar- 
jint,' sez  'e,  an'  then  we  fell  in.  But  after 
p'rade,  'e  was  up  an'  Mullins  was  swearin' 
'imself  black  in  the  face  at  ord'ly-room  that 
IMulvaney  'ad  called  'im  a  swine  an'  Lord 
knows  wot  all.  You  know  Mullins.  'E'll 
'ave  'is  'ead  broke  in  one  o'  these  days. 
'E's  too  big  a  bloomin'  liar  for  ord'nary  con- 
sumption. '  Three  hours'  can  an'  kit,'  sez 
the  colonel ;  *  not  for  bein'  dirty  on  p'rade, 
but  for  'avin'  said  somethin'to  Mullins,  tho' 
I  do  not  believe,' sez  'e, '  you  said  wot  'e  said 
you  said.'    An'  Mulvaney  fell  away  sayin' 


112  MUL VANEY  STORIES. 

notbin'.  You  know  'e  never  speaks  to  the 
colonel  for  fear  o'  gettin'  'imself  fresh 
copped." 

MuUins,  a  very  young  and  ver}^  much 
married  sergeant,  whose  manners  were 
partly  the  result  of  innate  depravity  and 
partly  of  imperfectly  digested  board  school, 
came  over  the  bridge,  and  most  rudely  asked 
Ortheris  what  he  was  doina:. 

"  Me  ?"  said  Ortheris.  "  Ow !  I'm  waitin' 
for  my  c'mission.      'Seed   it   comin'   along 

yit?"' 

Mullins  turned  purple  and  ])assed  on. 
There  was  the  sound  of  a  gentle  chuckle 
from  the  glacis  where  Learoyd  lay. 

" 'E  expects  to  get  his  c'mission  some 
day,"  explained  Ortheris;  "Gawd  'elp  the 
mess  that  'ave  to  put  their  'ands  into  the 
same  kiddy  as  'im!  Wot  time  d'you  make 
it,  sir  ?  Fower  !  JNIulvaney  '11  be  out  in  'arf 
an  hour.  You  don't  want  to  buy  a  dorg, 
sir,  do  you  ?  A  pup  you  can  trust — 'arf 
Rampore  by  the  colonel's  grey'ound." 

"  Ortheris,"  I  answered,  sternly,  for  I  knew 
what  was  in  his  mind,  "  do  you  mean  to  say 
that—" 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  arx  money  o'  you, 
any'ow,"  said  Ortheris;  "I'd  'a'  sold  you 
the  dorg  good  an'  cheap,  but — but— I  know 
Mulvaney  '11  want  somethin'  after  we've 
walked  'im  orf,  an'  I  ain't  got  notbin',  nor  'e 
'asn't  neither.  I'd  sooner  sell  you  the  dorg, 
sir.     'S  trewth  I  would!" 


BLACK  JACK.  113 

A  shadow  fell  on  the  draw-bridge,  and 
Ortheris  began  to  rise  into  the  air,  lifted  by 
a  huge  hand  upon  his  collar. 

"  On3'thing  but  t'  braass,"  said  Lenroyd, 
quietly,  as  he  held  the  Londoner  over  the 
ditch.  "  Onything  but  t'  braass,  Orth'ris, 
ma  son  !  Ah've  got  one  rupee  eight  annas 
of  ma  own."  He  showed  two  coins,  and  re- 
placed Ortheris  on  the  draw-bridge  rail. 

"Very  good,"  I  said;  "where  are  you 
going  to?" 

"Goin'  to  walk  'im  orf  wen  'e  comes  out — • 
two  miles  or  three  or  fower,"  said  Ortheris. 

The  footsteps  within  ceased.  I  heard  the 
dull  thud  of  a  knapsack  falling  on  a  bed- 
stead, followed  by  the  rattle  of  arms.  Ten 
minutes  later,  Mulvaney,  faultlessly  attired, 
his  lips  compressed  and  his  face  as  black  as 
a  thunderstorm,  stalked  into  the  sunshine 
on  the  draw-bridge.  Learoyd  and  Ortheris 
sprung  from  my  side  and  closed  in  upon 
him,  both  leaning  toward  as  horses  lean 
upon  the  pole.  In  an  instant  they  had  dis- 
appeared down  the  sunken  road  to  the  can- 
tonments, and  I  was  left  alone.  Mulvaney 
had  not  seen  fit  to  recognize  me;  wherefore, 
I  felt  that  his  trouble  must  be  heavy  upon 
him. 

I  climbed  one  of  the  bastions  and  watched 
the  figures  of  the  Three  Musketeers  grow 
smaller  and  smaller  across  the  plain.  Thej 
were  walking  as  fast  as  they  could  put  foot 
to  the  ground,  and  their  heads  were  bowed. 


114  MUL  VAXEY  STORIES. 

The}^  fetched  a  great  compass  round  the  pa- 
rade-ground, skirted  the  cavalry  lines,  and 
vanished  in  the  belt  of  trees  that  fringes  the 
low  land  by  the  river. 

I  followed  slowly,  and  sighted  them — 
dusty,  sweating,  but  still  keeping  up  their 
long,  swinging  tramp — on  the  river-bank. 
They  crashed  through  the  forest  reserve, 
headed  toward  the  bridge  of  boats,  and  pres- 
ently established  themselves  on  the  brow  of 
the  pontoons.  I  rode  cautiously  till  I  saw 
three  puffs  of  white  smoke  rise  and  die  out 
in  the  clear  evening  air,  and  knew  that  peace 
had  come  again.  At  the  bridge-head  they 
waved  me  forward  with  gestures  of  welcome. 

"Tie  up  your  'orse,"  shouted  Ortheris, 
'*an'  come  on,  sir.  We're  all  goin'  'ome  in 
this  'ere  bloomin'  boat." 

From  the  bridge-head  to  the  forest  offi- 
cers' bungalow  is  but  a  step.  The  mess-man 
"was  there,  and  would  see  that  a  man  held 
my  horse.  Did  the  sahib  require  aught 
else — a  peg,  or  beer  ?  Ritchie  Sahib  had  left 
half  a  dozen  bottles  of  the  latter,  but  since 
the  sahib  was  a  friend  of  Ritchie  Sahib,  and 
he,  the  mess-man,  was  a  poor  man — 

I  gave  my  order  quietly,  and  returned  to 
the  bridge.  Mulvaney  had  taken  off  his 
boots,  and  was  dabbling  his  toes  in  the 
water ;  Learoyd  was  lying  on  his  back  on 
the  poncoon;  and  Ortheris  was  pretending 
to  row  with  a  big  bamboo. 

'*I'm  an  ould  fool,"  said  Mulvaney,  re- 


BLACK  JACK.  115 

flectively,  "  dhraggin'  you  two  out  here  be- 
kaze  I  was  undher  the  bhick  dog — sulkin' 
Hke  a  child.  Me  that  was  soldierin'  when 
MulUns,  an'  be  damned  to  him,  was 
shquealin'on  a  counterpin  for  foive  shillin's 
a  week,  an'  that  not  paid  !  Bhoys,  I've  took 
you  foive  miles  out  av  natural  pevarsit}'. 
Phew!" 

"  Wot's  the  odds  as  long  as  you're  'appy  ?" 
said  Ortheris,  applying  himself  afresh  to  the 
bamboo.    "  As  well  'ere  as  anywhere  else." 

Learoyd  held  up  a  rupee  and  an  eight 
anna  bit,  and  shook  his  head  sorrowfully. 
"  Five  mile  from  t'  canteen,  all  along  o' 
Mulvaney's  blaasted  pride." 

"  I  know  ut,"  said  Mulvaney,  penitently. 
"Why  will  ye  come  wid  me  ?  An'  yet  1  wud 
be  mortial  sorry  if  ye  did  not — any  time — 
though  I  am  ould  enough  to  know  betther. 
But  I  will  do  penance.  I  will  take  a  dhrink 
av  water." 

Ortheris  squeaked  shrilly.  The  butler  of 
the  forest  bungalow  was  standing  near  the 
railings  with  a  basket,  uncertain  how  to 
clamber  down  to  the  pontoon. 

"  Might  'a'  know'd  you'd  'a'  got  liquor  out 
o'  a  bloomin'  desert,  sir,"  said  Ortheris,  grace- 
fully, to  me.  Then  to  the  mess-man  :  "  Easy 
with  them  there  bottles.  They're  worth 
their  weight  in  gold.  Jock,  ye  long-armed 
beggar,  get  out  o'  that  an'  hike  'em  down." 

Learoyd  had  the  basket  on  the  pontoon  in 
an  instant,  and  the  Three  Musketeers  gath- 


116  2IVLVAXEy  STORIES. 

ered  round  it  with  dry  lips.  They  drank 
my  health  in  due  and  ancient  form,  and 
thereafter  tobacco  tasted  sweeter  than 
ever.  They  absorbed  all  the  beer,  and  dis- 
posed themselves  in  picturesque  attitudes  to 
admire  the  setting  sun — no  man  speaking 
for  awhile. 

Mulvaney's  head  dropped  upon  his  chest, 
and  we  thought  that  he  was  asleep. 

"  What  on  earth  did  you  come  so  far  for  ?" 
I  wliispered  to  Ortheris. 

"  To  walk  'im  orf,  o'  course.  When  e'es 
been  checked  we  alius  walks  'im  orf.  'E 
ain't  fit  to  he  spoke  to  those  times — nor  'e 
ain't  fit  to  leave  alone  neither.  So  we  takes 
'im  till  'e  is." 

Mulvaney  raised  his  head,  and  stared 
straight  into  the  sunset.  "  I  had  my  rifle," 
said  he,  dreamily,  "  an'  I  had  my  bay'nit, 
an'  Mullins  came  round  the  corner,  an'  he 
looked  in  my  face  an'  grinned  dishpiteful. 
'  You  can't  bl(5w  your  own  nose,'  said  he. 
Now  I  can't  tell  fwhat  Mullins's  expayrience 
may  ha'  been,  but,  Mother  av  God,  he  was 
nearer  to  his  death  that  minut'  than  I  have 
iver  been  to  mine— an'  that's  less  than  the 
thicknuss  av  a  hair!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Ortheris,  calmly,  "  you'd  look 
fine  with  all  your  })uttons  took  orf,  an'  the 
band  in  front  o'  you,  walkin'  roun'  slow 
time.  We're  both  front-rank  men,  me  an' 
Jock,  when  the  rig'ment's  in  hollow  square, 
Bloomin'  fine  you'd  look.     '  The  Lord  giveth 


BLACK  JACK.  117 

an'  the  Lord  taketh  awai —  Heasy  with 
that  there  drop  !  Blessed  be  the  naime  o' 
the  Lord !'"  He  gulped  in  a  quiet  and  sug- 
gestive fashion. 

"Mullins!  Wot'sMulIins?"said  Learoyd, 
slowly.  "Ah'd  take  a  coonipny  o'  Mul- 
linses — ma  hand  behind  me.  Sitha,  Mul- 
vaney,  dunnat  be  a  fool." 

"  You  were  not  checked  for  fwat  you  did 
not  do,  an'  made  a  mock  av  afther.  'Twas 
for  less  than  that  the  Tyrone  wud  ha'  sent 
O'Hara  to  hell,  instid  av  lettin'  him  go  by 
his  own  choosin'  whin  Rafferty  shot  him," 
retorted  Mulvaney. 

"  And  who  stopped  the  Tvrone  from  doing 
it?"  I  asked. 

"That  ould  fool  who's  sorry  he  didn't 
stick  the  pig  Mullins."  His  head  dropped 
again.  When  he  raised  it  he  shivered  and 
put  his  hand  on  the  shoulders  of  his  two 
companions. 

''Ye've  Avalked  the  divil  out  av  me, 
bhoys,"  said  he. 

Ortheris  shot  out  the  red-hot  dottel  of  his 
pipe  on  the  back  of  the  hairy  fist.  "  They 
say  e'll's  'otter  than  that,"  said  he,  as  Mulva- 
ney  swore  aloud.  "  You  be  warned  so. 
Look  yonder!" — he  pointed  across  the  river 
to  a  ruined  temple — "Me  an' you  an'  'im" 
— he  indicated  me  by  a  jerk  of  his  head — 
"  was  there  one  day  when  Hi  made  a  bloom- 
in'  show  o'  myself.  You  an'  'im  stopped 
me  doin'  such — an'  Hi  was  on'v  wishful  for 


118  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

to  desert.  You  are  makin'  a  bigger  bloomin' 
show  o'  yourself  now." 

"Don't  mind  him,  Mulvaney,"  I  said; 
"  Dinah  Shadd  won't  let  you  hang  j'ourself 
yet  awhile,  and  you  don't  intend  to  try  it 
either.  Let's  hear  about  the  Tyrone  and 
O'Hara.  Rafferty  shot  him  for  fooling  with 
his  wife.     What  happened  before  that?" 

"There's  no  fool  like  an  ould  fool.  You 
know  you  can  do  anythin'  with  me  whin 
I'm  talkin'.  Did  I  say  I  wud  like  to  cut 
Mullins's  liver  out?  I  deny  the  imputa- 
shin,  for  fear  that  Orth'ris  here  wud  report 
me — Ah  !  You  wud  tip  me  into  the  river, 
wud  you?  Sit  quiet,  little  man.  Any 
ways,  Mullins  is  not  worth  the  trouble  av 
an  extry  p'rade,  an'  I  will  trate  him  wid 
outrajis  contimpt.  The  Tyrone  an'  O'Hara! 
O'Hara  an'  the  Tyrone,  begad  !  Ould  days 
are  hard  to  bring  back  into  the  mouth,  but 
they're  always  inside  the  head." 

Followed  a  long  pause. 

"  O'Hara  was  a  divil.  Though  I  saved 
him,  for  the  honor  av  the  rig'mint,  from  his 
death  that  time,  I  say  it  now.  He  was  a 
divil— a  long,  bould,  black-haired  divil." 

"  Which  way  ?"  asked  Ortheris. 

"  Women." 

"  Then  I  know  another." 

"Not  more  than  in  reason,  if  you  mane 
me,  ye  warped  walkin'-shtick.  I  have  been 
young,  an'  for  why  should  I  not  have  tuk 
Tvhat  I  cud?     Did  I  iver,  whin  I  was  cor- 


BLACK  JACK.  119 

p'ril,  use  the  rise  uv  me  rank — wan  step  an^ 
that  taken  away,  more's  the  sorrow  an'  the 
fault  av  me ! — to  prosecute  a  nefarious  in- 
thrigue,  as  O'Hara  did  ?  Did  I,  whin  I  was 
corp'ril,  lay  me  spite  upon  a  man  an'  make 
his  life  a  dog's  life  from  day  to  day  ?  Did 
I  lie,  as  O'Hara  lied,  till  the  young  wans  in 
the  Tyrone  turned  white  wid  the  fear  av  the 
judgmint  av  God  killin'  thim  all  in  a  lump, 
as  ut  killed  the  woman  at  Devizes?  I  did 
not !  I  have  sinned  me  sins  an'  I  have 
made  me  confesshin',  an'  Father  Victor 
knows  the  worst  av  me.  O'Hara  was  tuk, 
before  he  cud  spake,  on  RafFerty's  door-step, 
an'  no  man  knows  the  worst  av  him.  But 
this  much  I  know  ! 

"  The  Tyrone  was  recruited  any  fashion 
in  the  ould  days.  A  draf  from  Connemara 
— a  draf  from  Portsmouth — a  draf  from 
Kerry,  an'  that  was  a  blazin'  bad  draf — 
here,  there  an'  iverywhere — but  the  large 
av  thim  was  Oirish — Black  Oirish.  Now 
there  are  Oirish  an'  Oirish.  The  good  are 
good  as  the  best,  but  the  bad  are  wurrst  than 
the  wurrst.  'Tis  this  way.  They  clog  to- 
gether in  pieces  as  fast  as  thieves,  an'  no 
wan  knows  fwhat  they  will  do  till  wan  turns 
informer  an'  the  gang  is  bruk.  But  ut 
begins  again,  a  day  later,  meetin'  in  holes 
an'  corners  an'  swearin'  bloody  oaths  an'' 
shtickin'  a  man  in  the  back  an'  runnin' 
away,  an'  thin  waitin'  for  the  blood-money 
on  the  reward  papers — to  see  if  it's  worth 


120  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

enough.  Those  are  the  Black  Oirish,  an' 
'tis  they  that  bring  dishgrace  upon  the  name 
av  Oireland,  an'  thim  I  wud  kill — as  I  nearly- 
killed  wan  wanst. 

"  But  to  reshume.  Me  room — 'twas  be- 
fore I  was  married — was  wid  twelve  av  the 
scum  av  the  earth — the  pickin's  av  the  gutter 
— mane  men  that  wud  neither  laugh  nor  talk 
nor  yet  get  dhrunk  as  a  man  shud.  They 
thried  some  av  their  dog  thricks  on  me,  but 
I  dhrew  a  line  round  me  cot,  an'  the  man 
that  thransgressed  ut  wint  into  hospital  for 
three  days  good. 

"  O'Hara  had  put  his  spite  on  the  room — ■ 
he  was  my  color-sarjint — an'  nuthin'  cud  we 
do  to  plaze  him.  I  was  younger  than  I  am 
now,  an'  I  tuk  what  I  got  in  the  w'ay  av 
dressin'  down  an'  punishmint-dhrill  wid 
me  tongue  in  me  cheek.  But  it  was  dif- 
f'rint  wid  the  others,  an  ov-hy  I  can  not  say, 
excipt  that  some  men  aie  borrun  mane  an' 
go  to  dhirty  murdher  where  a  fist  is  more 
than  enough.  Afther  a  whoile,  they  changed 
their  chune  to  me  an'  was  desp'rit  frien'ly — 
all  twelve  av  thim  cursin'  O'Hara  in  chorus. 

'' '  Eyah,'  sez  I,  '  O'Kara's  a  divil  and  I'm 
not  for  denyin'  ut,  but  is  he  the  only  man  in 
the  wurruld?  Let  him  go.  He'll  get  tired 
av  findin'  our  kit  foul  an'  our  'couterments 
onproperly  kep'.' 

'"  We  will  not  let  him  go,'  sez  they. 

"  '  Thin  take  him,'  sez  I, '  an'  a  dashed  poor 
yield  you  will  get  for  your  throuble.' 


BLACKJACK.  VZl 

" '  Is  he  not  misconductin'  himself  wid 
SHmray's  wife?'  sez  another. 

"'She's  common  to  the  rig'mint,'  sez  I. 
*Fwhat  has  made  ye  this  partic'kir  on  a 
suddint?' 

"  '  Has  he  not  put  his  spite  on  the  roomful 
av  us  ?  Can  we  do  anythin'  that  he  will  not 
check  us  for?'  sez  another. 

"  '  That's  thrue,'  sez  I. 

"'  Will  ye  not  help  us  to  do  aught,' sez  an- 
other— '  a  big  bould  man  like  you?' 

"'I  will  break  his  head  upon  his  shoul- 
thers  av  he  puts  hand  on  me,'  sez  I.  '  I  will 
give  him  the  lie  av  he  says  that  I'm  dhirty, 
an'  I  wud  not  mind  duckin'  him  in  the  ar- 
tillery troughs  if  ut  was  not  that  I'm  thryin' 
for  me  shtripes.' 

"'Is  that  all  ye  will  do?'  sez  another. 
'  Have  ye  no  more  spunk  than  that,  ye 
blood-dhrawn  calf?' 

"  '  Blood-dhrawn  I  may  be,'  sez  I,  gettin- 
back  to  me  cot  an'  makin'  me  line  round 
ut;  'but ye  know  that  the  man  who  comes 
acrost  this  mark  v:i]\  be  more  blood-dhrawn 
than  me.  No  man  gives  me  the  name  in  me 
mouth,'  I  sez.  'Ondersthand,  I  will  have 
no  part  wnd  you  in  anythin'  ye  do,  nor  will 
I  raise  me  fist  to  me  shuperior.  Is  any  wan 
comin*  on  ?'  sez  I. 

"  They  made  no  move,  tho'  I  gave  thim 
full  time,  but  stud  growlin'  an'  snarlin'  to- 
gither  at  wan  ind  av  the  room.  I  tuk  up 
me  cap  an'  wint  out  to  canteen,  thinkin'  no 


122  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

little  av  mesilf,  an'  there  I  grew  most  onda- 
cintly  clhrunk  in  my  legs.  Me  head  was  all 
reasonable. 

" '  Houligan,'  I  sez  to  a  man  In  E  Com- 
p'ny  that  was  by  way  av  bein'  a  frind  av 
mine,  '  I'm  overtuk  from  the  belt  doAvn. 
Do  you  give  me  the  touch  av  your  shoul- 
ther  topresarveme  formashunan'  march  me 
acrost  the  ground  into  the  high  grass.  I'll 
sleep  ut  off  there,'  sez  I ;  an'  Houligan — he's 
dead  now,  but  good  he  was  while  he  lasted 
— walked  wid  me,  givin'  me  the  touch  whin 
I  wint  wide,  ontil  we  came  to  the  high  grass, 
an',  my  faith,  the  sky  an'  the  earth  was  fiiir 
rowlin'  undher  me.  I  made  for  where  the 
grass  was  thickest,  an'  there  I  slep'  off  my 
liquor  wid  an  aisy  conscience.  I  did  not 
desire  to  come  on  books  too  frequint,  me 
characther  havin'  been  shpotless  for  the  good 
half  av  a  year. 

"  Whin  I  roused,  the  dhrink  was  dyin'  out 
in  me,  an'  I  felt  as  though  a  she-cat  had  lit- 
tered in  me  mouth.  I  had  not  learned  to 
hould  me  liquor  wid  comfort  in  thini  days. 
'Tis  little  betther  I  am  now.  '  I  will  get 
Houligan  to  pour  a  bucket  over  me  head,' 
thinks  I,  an'  wud  ha'  risen,  but  I  heard  some 
wan  say :  '  Mulvaney  can  take  the  blame  av 
ut  for  the  backslidin'  hound  he  is.' 

" '  Oho !'  sez  I,  an'  my  head  rang  like  a 
guard-room  gong;  'fwhat  is  the  blame  that 
this  young  man  must  take  to  oblige  Tim 
Vulmea?'     For    'twas    Tim    Vulmea    that 


BLACK  JACK.  123 

phpoke.  "  I  turned  on  me  belly  an'  crawled 
through  the  grass,  a  bit  at  a  time,  to  where 
the  spache  came  from.  There  was  the 
twelve  av  my  room  sittin'  down  in  a  little 
patch,  the  dhry  grass  wavin'  above  their 
heads  an'  the  sin  av  black  murdher  in  their 
hearts,  I  put  the  stuff  aside  to  get  a  clear 
view. 

" '  Fwhat's  that?'  sez  wan  man,jumpin* 
up. 

"  '  A  dog,'  says  Vulmea.  '  You're  a  nice 
hand  to  this  job !  As  I  said,  Mulvaney  will 
take  the  blame — av  ut  comes  to  a  pinch.' 

"  '  'Tis  harrd  to  swear  a  man's  life  away,' 
sez  a  young  wan. 

'"thank  ye  for  that,'  thinks  I.  'Now, 
fwhat  the  divil  are  you  paragins  conthrivin' 
against  me?' 

" '  'Tis  as  easy  as  dhrinkin'  your  quart,' 
sez  Vulmea.  *At  sivin  or  thereon,  O'Hara 
will  come  acrost  to  the  married  quarters, 
goin'  to  call  on  Slimmy's  wife,  the  swine! 
Wan  av  us'U  pass  the  wurrd  to  the  room  an' 
we  shtart  the  divil  an'  all  av  a  shine — 
laughin'  an'  crackin'  on  an'  t'rowin'  our 
boots  about.  Thin  O'Hara  will  come  to 
give  us  the  ordher  to  be  quiet,  the  more  by 
token  because  the  room-lam  p  will  be  knocked 
over  in  the  larkin'.  He  will  take  the  straight 
road  to  the  ind  door  where  there's  the  lamp 
in  the  veranda,  an'  that'll  bring  him  clear 
against  the  light  as  he  sthands.  He  will  not 
be  able  to  look  into  the  dhark.     Wan  av  us 


124  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

will  loose  off,  an'  a  close  shot  ut  will  be,  an' 
shame  to  the  man  that  misses.  'Twill  be 
Mulvaney's  rifle,  she  that  is  at  the  head  av 
the  rack — there's  no  mistakin'  that  long- 
shtocked,  cross-eyed  bitch  even  in  the 
dhark.' 

"  The  thief  misnamed  me  ould  firin'-piece 
out  av  jealousy — I  was  pershuaded  av  that 
— an'  ut  made  me  more  angry  than  all. 

"But  Vulmea  goes  on:  '  O'Hara  will 
dhrop,  an'  by  the  time  the  light's  lit  again 
there'll  be  some  six  av  us  on  the  chist  av 
Mulvaney,  cryin'  murdher  an'  rape.  Mul- 
vaney's cot  is  near  the  ind  door,  an'  the 
shmokin'  rifle  will  be  lyin'  undher  him 
whin  we've  knocked  him  over.  We  know, 
an'  all  the  rig'mint  knows,  that  JNIulvaney 
has  given  O'Hara  more  lip  than  any  man  av 
us.  Will  there  be  any  doubt  at  the  coort- 
martial?  Wud  twelve  honust  sodger-bhoys 
swear  away  the  life  av  a  dear,  quiet,  swate- 
timpered  man  such  as  is  Mulvaney — wid 
his  line  av  pipe-clay  roun'  his  cot,  threaten- 
in' us  wid  murdher  av  we  overshtepped  ut, 
as  we  can  truthful  testify  ?' 

"  \  Mary,  Mother  av  Mercy !'  thinks  I  to 
mesilf;  '  it  is  this  to  have  an  unruly  mimber 
an'  fistes  fit  to  use!  Oh,  the  "  sneakin' 
hounds!' 

"  The  big  dhrops  ran  down  me  face,  for  I 
was  wake  wid  the  liquor  an'  had  not  the 
full  av  me  wits  about  me.  I  laid  shtill  an' 
heard  thim  workin'  themselves  up  to  swear 


BLACKJACK.  125 

me  life  by  tellin'  tales  av  ivry  time  I  had 
put  me  mark  on  wan  or  another;  an'  my 
faith,  they  was  few  that  was  not  so  dishtin- 
guished.  'Twas  all  in  the  way  av  fair  fight, 
though,  for  niver  did  I  raise  me  hand  excipt 
whin  they  had  provoked  me  to  ut. 

"  '  'Tis  all  well,'  sez  wan  av  thim,  '  but 
who's  to  do  this  shootin'?' 

'"Fwhat  matther?'  sez  Vulmea.  "Tis 
Mulvaney  will  do  that — et  the  coort-martial.' 

"'He  will  so,'  sez  the  man,  'but  whose 
hand  is  put  to  the  trigger — in  the  room  ?' 

"'Who'll  do  ut?'  sez  Vulmea,  lookin' 
round,  but  divil  a  man  answered.  They 
began  to  dishpute  till  Kiss,  that  was  always 
playin'  Shpoil  Five,  sez:  "Thry  the  kyardsl' 
Wid  that  he  opined  his  jackut  an'  tuk  out 
the  greasy  palammers,  an'  they  all  fell  in 
wid  the  notion. 

'"  Deal  on  !'  sez  Vulmea,  wid  a  big  rattlin* 
oath,  'an'  the  Black  Curse avShielygh  come 
to  the  man  that  will  not  do  his  duty  as  the 
kyards  say.     Amin !' 

"'Black  Jack  is  the  masther,'  sez  Kiss, 
dealin'.  Black  Jack,  sorr,  I  shud  expaytiate 
to  you,  is  the  ace  of  shpades,  which  from 
time  immimorial  has  been  intimately  con- 
nected with  battle,  murdher  an'  suddin 
death. 

"  Wanst  Kiss  dealt  an'  there  was  no  sign, 
but  the  men  was  whoit  wid  the  workin's  av 
their  sowls.  Twice  Kiss  dealt,  an' there  was 
a  gray  shine  on  their  cheeks  like  the  mess  av 


126  MUL VANEY  STORIES. 

an  egg.  Three  times  Kiss  dealt  an'  they 
was  blue.  '  Have  ye  not  lost  him  ?'  sez  Vul- 
mea,  wipin'  the  sweat  on  him.  '  Let's  ha' 
done  quick !'  '  Quick  ut  is,'  sez  Kiss,  t'rowin' 
him  the  kvard ;  an'  ut  fell  face  on  his  knee 
—Black  Jack ! 

''  Thin  they  all  cackled  wid  laughin'. 
'Duty  thrippence,'  sez  wan  av  thim,  *  an' 
damned  cheap  at  that  price  !'  But  I  cud 
see  they  all  dhrew  a  little  away  from  Vulmea 
an'  lef  him  sittin'  playin'  wid  the  kyard. 
Vulmea  sez  no  word  for  awhoile  but  licked 
his  lips — cat-ways.  Thin  he  threw  up  his 
head  an' made  the  men  swear  by  ivry  oath 
known  an'  unknown  to  stan'  by  him  not 
alone  in  the  room  but  at  the  coort-martial 
that  was  to  set  on  me !  He  tould  off  five  av 
the  biggest  to  stretch  me  on  me  cot  whin  the 
shot  was  fired,  an'  another  man  he  tould 
off  to  put  out  the  light,  an'  j'et  another 
to  load  me  rifle.  He  wud  not  do  that  liim- 
self ;  an'  that  was  quare,  for  'twas  but  a  little 
thing. 

"  Thin  they  swore  over  again  that  they 
wud  not  bethray  wan  another,  an'  crep'  out 
av  the  grass  in  diff'rint  ways,  two  be  two. 
A  mercy  ut  was  that  they  did  not  come  on 
me.  I  was  sick  wid  fear  in  the  pit  av  me 
stummick — sick,  sick,  sick !  After  they  was 
all  gone,  I  wint  back  to  the  canteen  an' 
called  for  a  quart  to  put  a  thought  in  me. 
Vulmea  was  there,  dhrinkin'  heavy,  an'  po- 
liteful  to  me  beyond  reason.     '  Fwhat  will  I 


BLACKJACK.  127 

do — fwhat  will  I  do?'  thinks  I  to  mesilf 
whin  Vulmea  wint  away. 

"  Prisintly  the  arm'rer  sarjint  comes  in 
stiffin'  an'  crackin'  on,  not  pleased  wid  any 
wan,  bekaze  the  Martini-Henri  bein'  new  to 
the  rig'niint  in  those  days  we  used  to  play 
the  mischief  wid  her  arrangemints.  'Twas 
a  long  time  before  I  cud  get  out  av  the  way 
av  thryin'  to  pull  the  back-sight  an'  turnin' 
her  over  afther  firin' — as  if  she  was  a  Snider. 

"'Fwhat  tailor-men  do  they  give  me  to 
work  wid  ?'  sez  the  arm'rer  sarjint.  '  Here's 
Hogan,  his  nose  flat  as  a  table,  laid  by  for  a 
week,  an'  ivry  comp'ny  sendin'  their  arrums 
in  knocked  to  small  shivreens.' 

"'Fwhat's  wrong  wid  Hogan,  sarjint?' 
sez  I. 

'"Wrong!'  sez  the  arm'rer  sarjint;  *I 
showed  him,  as  though  I  had  been  his 
mother,  the  way  avshtrippin'  a  'Tini,  an'  he 
shtrup  her  clane  an'  aisy.  I  towld  him  to 
put  her  to  again  an'  fire  a  blank  into  the 
blow-pit  to  show  how  the  dirt  hung  on  the 
groovin'.  He  did  that,  but  he  did  not  put 
in  the  pin  av  the  fallin'  block,  an'  av  coorse 
whin  he  fired  he  was  strook  by  the  block 
jumpin'  clear.  Well  for  him  'twas  but  a 
blank — a  full  charge  wud  ha'  cut  his  oi 
out.' 

"  I  looked  a  trifle  wiser  than  a  boiled 
sheep's  head.     'How's  that,  sarjint?'  sez  I. 

*' '  This  way,  ye  blundherin'  man,  an'  don't 
be  doin'  ut,'  sez  he.     Wid  that  he  shows  me 


128  3IULVAXEY  f^TORIES. 

a  Waster  action — the  breech  av  her  all  cut 
away  to  show  the  inside — an'  so  plazcd  was 
he  to  grumble  that  he  dimonstrated  fwhat 
Hogan  had  done  twioe  over.  '  An'  that  comes 
av  not  knowin'  the  wepping  you're  purvided 
wid,'  sez  he. 

'"Thank  ye,  sarjint,'  sez  I;  '  I  will  come 
to  you  again  for  further  informashun. 

'"Ye  will  not,'  sez  he.  '  Kape  your 
clanin'-rod  away  from  the  breech-pin  or  you 
will  get  into  throuble.' 

"I  wint  outside  an'  I  could  ha'  danced 
wid  delight  for  the  grandeur  av  ut.  '  They 
will  load  me  rifle,  good  luck  to  thim,  whoile 
I'm  away,'  thinks  I,  an'  back  I  wint  to  the 
canteen  to  give  them  their  clear  chanst. 

"The  canteen  was  fillin'  wid  men  at  the 
ind  av  the  day.  I  made  feign  to  be  far  gone 
in  dhrink,  an',  wan  by  wan,  all  my  roomful 
came  in  wid  Vulmea.  I  wint  away,  walkin' 
thick  an'  heavy,  but  not  so  thick  an'  heavy 
that  any  wan  cud  ha'  tuk  me.  Sure  an' 
thrue,  there  was  a  kyartridge  gone  from  my 
pouch  an'  lyin'  snug  in  me  rifle.  I  was  hot 
wid  rage  ag'inst  thim  all,  an'  I  worried  the 
bullet  out  wid  me  teeth  as  faf^t  as  I  cud, 
the  room  bein'  empty.  Then  I  tuk  me  boot 
an'  the  clanin'-rod  an'  knocked  out  the  ]iin 
av  the  fallin'-block.  Oh,  'twas  music  whin 
that  pin  rowled  on  the  flure!  I  put  ut  into 
me  pouch  an'  stuck  a  dab  av  dirt  on  the 
holes  in  the  plate,  puttin'  the  fallin'-block 
back.     '  That'll  do  your  business,  Vulmea. 


BLACKJACK.  129 

sez  I,  lyin'  eas}"  on  the  cot.  *  Come  an'  sit 
on  me  chest  the  whole  room  av  you,  an'  I 
will  take  you  to  me  bosom  for  the  biggest 
divils  that  iver  cheated  halter.  I  wud  have 
no  mercy  on  Vulmea.  His  oi  or  his  life — 
little  I  cared  ! 

"  At  dusk  they  came  back,  the  twelve  av 
thim,  an'  they  had  all  been  dhrinkin'.  I 
was  shammin'  sleep  on  tlie  cot.  Wan  man 
wint  outside  on  the  veranda.  Whin  he 
whistled  they  began  to  rage  roun'  the  room 
an'  carry  on  treraenjus.  But  I  niver  want 
to  hear  men  laugh  as  they  did — skylarkin' 
too!     'Twas  like  mad  jackals. 

"'Shtop  that  blasted  noise!'  sez  O'Hara 
in  the  dark,  an'  pop  goes  the  room  lamp. 
I  cud  hear  O'Hara  runnin'  up  an'  the  rat- 
tlin'  av  my  rifle  in  the  rack  an'  the  men 
breathin'  heavy  as  they  stud  roun'  me  cot. 
I  cud  see  O'Hara  in  the  light  avthe  veranda 
lamp,  an'  thin  I  heard  the  crack  av  me  rifle. 
She  cried  loud,  poor  darlint,  bein'  mishan- 
dled. Next  minut  five  men  were  houldin" 
me  down.  'Go  easv,'  I  sez;  '  fwhat's  ut  alt 
about?' 

''Thin  Vulmea,  on  the  flure,  raised  a 
howl  you  cud  hear  from  wan  ind  av  con- 
tonmints  to  the  ither.  '  I'm  dead,  I'm' 
butchered,  I'm  blind  !'  sez  he.  'Saints  have 
mercy  on  me  sinful  sowl !  Sind  for  Father 
Constant!  Oh,  sind  for  Father  Constant 
an'  let  me  go  clean !'  By  that  I  knew  he- 
was  not  dead  as  I  cud  ha'  wished. 
9 


130  Ml'LVAXEV  STORIES. 

"  O'Hara  picks  up  the  lamp  in  the  ve- 
randa wid  a  hand  as  stiddy  as  a  rest. 
'  Fwhat  damned  dog's  thrick  is  this  av 
yours?' sez  he,  an'  turns  the  light  on  Tim 
Vuhnea  that  was  shwimmin'  in  blood  from 
top  to  toe.  The  fiillin'-block  had  sprung 
free  behin'  a  full  charge  av  powther — good 
care  I  tuk  to  bite  down  the  brass  afther 
takin'  out  the  bullet  that  there  might  be 
somethin'  to  give  ut  full  worth — an'  had  cut 
Tim  from  the  lip  to  the  corner  av  the  right 
■eye,  lavin'  the  eyelid  in  tatthers,  an'  so  up 
an'  along  by  the  forehead  to  the  hair.  'Twas 
more  av  a  rakin'  plow,  if  you  will  ondher- 
.stand,  than  a  clean  cut;  an'  niver  did  I  see 
a  man  bleed  as  Vulniea  did.  The  dhrink 
an'  the  stew  that  he  was  in  pumped  the 
blood  strong.  The  minutthemen  sittin'  on 
me  chist  heard  O'Hara  spakin'  they  scat- 
"thered  each  wan  to  his  cot,  an'  cried  out 
very  politeful:  '  Fwhat  is  ut,  sarjint?' 

'"  Fwhat  is  ut!'  sez  O'Hara,  shakin'  Tim. 
*  Well  an'  good  do  you  know  fwhat  ut  is,  ye 
skulkin'  ditch-lurkin'  dogs!  Get  a  doolie, 
an'  take  this  whimperin'  scut  away.  There 
will  be  more  heard  av  ut  than  any  av  you 
will  care  for.' 

"Vulmea  sat  up  rockin' his  head  in  his 
hand  an'  moanin'  for  Father  Constant. 

"  '  Be  done  !'  sez  O'Hara,  dhraggin'  him  up 
by  the  hair.  '  You're  none  so  dead  that  you 
cannot  go  fifteen  years  for  thryin'  to  shoot 
me." 


BLACKJACK.  131 

"  '  I  did  not, '  sez  Vulmea  ;  I  was  shootin' 
mesilf.' 

"  '  That's  quare,'  sez  O'Hara, '  for  the  front 
av  myjackut  is  black  wid  your  powther.' 
He  tuk  up  the  rifle  that  was  still  warm  an* 
began  to  laugh.  '  I'll  make  your  life  hell 
to  you,'  sez  he,  'for  attempted  murdher  an' 
kapin'  your  rifle  onproperly.  You'll  be 
hanged  first,  an'  thin  put  undher  stoppages 
for  four  fifteen.     The  rifle's  done  for,'  sez  he. 

"  '  Why,  'tis  my  rifle  !"  sez  I,  comin'  up  to 
look ;  '  Vulmea,  ye  divil,  fwhat  were  you 
doin'  wid  her — answer  me  that?' 

"  '  Lave  me  alone,'  sez  Vulmea  ;  '  I'm 
dyin'  !' 

"  '  I'll  wait  till  you're  betther,'  sez  I,  'an' 
thin  we  two  will  talk  it  out  umbrageous.' 

"O'Hara  pitched  Tim  into  the  doolie, 
none  too  tinder,  but  all  the  bhoys  kep'  by 
their  cots,  which  was  not  the  sign  av  inno- 
cint  men.  I  was  huntin'  ivry  where  for  me 
fallin'-block,  but  not  findin'  ut  at  all.  I 
niver  found  ut. 

'"Now  fwhat  will  I  do?'  sez  O'Hara, 
swinging  the  veranda  light  in  his  hand  an' 
lookin'  down  the  room.  I  had  hate  and 
contimpt  av  O'Hara,  an'  I  have  now,  dead 
tho'he  is,  but,  for  all  that,  will  I  say  he  was 
a  brave  man.  He  is  baskin'  in  purgathory 
this  tide,  but  I  wish  he  cud  hear  that,  whin 
he  stud  lookin'  down  the  room  an' the  bhoys 
shivered  before  the  oi  av  him,  I  knew  him 
for  a  brave  man  an'  I  liked  him  so. 


132  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

"  '  Fwhat  will  I  do?'  sez  O'Hara  ag'in, an* 
we  heard  the  voice  av  a  woman  low  and  sof 
in  the  veranda.  'Twas  Slimmy's  wife,  come 
over  at  the  shot,  sittin'  on  wan  av  the 
benches  an'  scarce  able  to  walk. 

"  '  Oh,  Dennv — Denny  dear,'  sez  she, '  have 
they  kilt  you  ?' 

"  O'Hara  looked  down  the  room  again  an' 
showed  his  teeth  to  the  gum.  Then  he  spat 
on  the  flu  re. 

"  '  You're  not  worth  ut,'  sez  he.  '  Light 
that  lamp,  ye  dogs,'  an'  wid  that  he  turned 
away,  an'  I  saw  him  walkin'  off  wid  Slim- 
my's wife,  she  thryin'  to  wipe  off  the  poW' 
ther-black  on  the  front  av  his  jackut  wid 
her  handkerchief.  '  A  brave  man  you  are,* 
thinks  I — '  a  brave  man  an'  a  bad  woman,' 

"  No  wan  said  a  word  for  a  time.  They 
was  all  ashamed,  past  spache. 

"  '  Fwhat  d'you  think  he  will  do  ?'  sez  wan 
av  thim  at  last.     '  He  knows  we're  rJl  in  ut.* 

"  '  Are  we  so  ?'  sez  I  from  me  cot.  '  The 
man  that  sez  that  to  me  will  be  hurt.  I  do 
not  know,'  sez  I, '  fwhat  onderhatid  divilmint 
you  have  conthrived,  bul,  by  what  I've  seen 
I  know  that  you  can  not  commit  murdher 
wid  another  man's  riilfe — such  shakin'  cow- 
ards you  are.  I'm  goin'  to  blape.'  I  sez,  '  an' 
you  can  blow  me  head  off  \vhoile  I  lay.'  T 
did  not  slape,  tluugh,  foi-  n,  long  time.  Can 
ye  wonder? 

"  Next  morii  ihe  news  was  through  all  xhi, 
rig'mint,  ar.'  diere  Avap'  nothin'  that  the  men 


BLACKJACK.  138 

did  not  tell.  O'Hara  reports,  fair  an'  'easy, 
that  Vulmea  was  come  to  grief  through 
tamperin'  wid  his  rifle  in  barricks,  all  for  to 
show  the  mechanism.  An'  by  me  sowl,  he 
had  the  impart' nince  to  say  that  he  -was  on 
the  shpot  at  the  time  an'  cud  certify  that  ut 
wvas  an  accidint !  You  might  ha'  knocked 
me  roomful  down  wid  a  straw  whin  they 
heard  that.  'Twas  lucky  for  thim  that 
the  bhoys  were  always  thryin'  to  find  out 
how  the  new  rifle  was  made,  an'  a  lot  av 
thim  had  come  up  for  easin'  the  pull  by 
shtickin'  bits  of  grass  an'  such  in  the  part 
av  the  lock  that  showed  near  the  thrigger. 
The  first  issues  of  the  'Tinis  was  not  covered 
in,  an'  I  mesilf  have  eased  the  pull  av  mine 
time  an'  ag'in.  A  light  pull  is  ten  points 
on  the  range  to  me. 

'"I  will  not  have  this  foolishness!'  sez 
the  colonel.  '  I  will  twist  the  tail  of  Vul- 
mea!' sez  he;  but  whin  he  saw  him,  all 
tied  up  an'  groanin'  in  hospital,  he  changed 
his  mind.  '  Make  him  an  early  convales- 
cint,'  sez  he  to  the  doctor,  an'  Vulmea  was 
made  so  for  a  warnin'.  His  big  bloody 
bandages  an'  face  puckered  up  to  wan  side 
did  more  to  kape  the  bhoys  from  messin^ 
W'id  the  insides  av  their  rifles  than  any  pun- 
ishment. 

"O'Hara  gave  no  reason  for  fwhat  he'd 
said,  an'  all  my  roomful  were  too  glad  to  in- 
quire tho'  he  put  his  spite  upon  thim  more 
wearin'  than  before.     Wan  day,  howiver,  he 


134  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

tuk  me  apart  very  polite,  for  he  cud  be  that 
at  the  choosin', 

"'You're  a  good  sodger,  tho'  you're  a 
damned  insolint  man,'  sez  he, 

" '  Fair  words,  sarjint,'  sez  I,  '  or  I  may  be 
insolint   ag'in.' 

"  '  'Tis  not  like  you,'  sez  he,  '  to  Lave  your 
("ifle  in  the  rack  widout  the  breech-pin,  for 
tvidout  the  breech-pin  she  was  whin  Vulmea 
fired.  I  should  ha'  found  the  break  av  ut 
in  the  eyes  av  the  holes,  else,'  he  sez. 

"'Sarjint,'  sez  I,  '  fwliat  wud  your  life 
ha'  been  worth  av  the  breech-pin  had  been 
in  place,  for,  on  me  sowl,  me  life  wud  be 
worth  just  as  much  to  me  av  I  towld  you 
whether  ut  was  or  was  not.  Be  thankful  the 
bullet  was  not  there,'  I  sez. 

" '  That's  thrue,'  sez  he,  pullin'  his  mus- 
tache ;  '  but  I  do  not  believe  that  you,  for 
all  your  lip,  was  in  that  business.' 

'"Sarjint,"  sez  I,  '  I  cud  hammer  the  life 
out  av  a  man  in  ten  minuts  wid  my  fistes  if 
that  man  dishpleased  me;  for  I  am  a  good 
sodger,  an'  I  will  be  threated  as  such,  an' 
whoile  me  fistes  are  me  own  they're  strong 
enough  for  all  work  I  have  to  do.  They  do 
not  fly  back  towards  me!'  sez  I,  lookin'  him 
betune  the  eyes. 

" '  You're  a  good  man,'  sez  he,  lookin'  me 
betune  the  eyes — an'  oh,  he  was  a  gran'  built 
man  to  see — 'you're  a  good  man,'  sez  he, 
'  an'  I  cud  wish,  for  the  pure  frolic  av  ut, 
that  I  was  not  a  sarjint,  or  that  vou  were 


BLACK  JACK.  135 

not  a  privit ;  an'  you  will  think  me  no  cow- 
ard whin  I  say  this  thing.' 

" '  I  do  not,'  sez  I.  '  I  saw  you  whin  Vul- 
mea  mishandled  the  rifle.  But,  sarjint,'  I 
sez,  '  take  the  wurrd  from  me  now,  spakin' 
as  man  to  man  wid  the  shtripes  off,  tho'  'tis 
little  right  I  have  to  talk,  me  hein'  fwhat  I 
am  by  natur'.  This  time  ye  tuk  no  harm, 
an'  next  time  ye  may  not,  but,  in  the  ind, 
so  sure  as  Slimmy's  wife  came  into  the  ve- 
randa, so  sure  will  ye  take  harm — an'  bad 
harm.  Have  thought,  sarjint,'  sez  I.  '  Is 
ut  worth  ut  ?' 

"  '  Ye're  a  bowld  man,'  sez  he,  breathin' 
harrd.  '  A  very  bowld  man.  But  I  am  a 
bowld  man  tu.  Do  you  go  your  way,  Privit 
Mulvanev,  an'  I  will  go  mine.' 

"  We  had  no  further  spache  thin  or  afther, 
but,  wan  by  another,  he  drafted  the  twelve 
av  my  room  out  into  other  rooms  an'  got 
thim  spread  among  the  comp'nies,  for  they 
Avas  not  a  good  breed  to  live  together,  an'  the 
comp'ny  orf'cers  saw  ut.  They  wud  ha' 
shot  me  in  the  night  av  they  had  known 
fwhat  I  knew  ;  but  they  did  not. 

"  An',  in  the  ind,  as  I  said,  O'Hara  met 
his  death  from  Rafferty  for  foolin'  wid  his 
wife.  He  wint  his  own  way  too  well — Eyah, 
too  well !  Shtraight  to  that  affair,  widout 
turnin'  to  the  right  or  to  the  lef,  he  wint, 
an'  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  his  sowl. 
Amin  !" 

"  'Ear !    'Ear  !"  said  Ortheris,  pointing  the 


136  MULVAyEY  STORIES. 

moral  with  .a  wave  of  his  pipe.  "  An'  this  is 
'im  'oo  would  be  a  bloomin'  Vulmea  all  for 
the  sake  of  Mullins  an'  a  bloomin'  button  ! 
MuUins  never  went  after  a  woman  in  his 
life.     Mrs.  Mullins,  she  saw  'im  one  day — " 

"  Ortheris,"  I  said,  hastily,  for  the  ro- 
mances of  Private  Ortheris  are  slightly  too 
daring  for  publication,  "look  at  the  sun. 
It's  a  quarter  past  six!" 

"  Oh,  Lord  !  Three  quarters  of  an  hour 
for  five  an' a  'arf  miles!  We'll  'ave  to  run 
like  Jimmy  0." 

The  Three  Musketeers  clambered  on  to 
the  bridge,  and  departed  hastily  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  cantonment  road.  Wiien  I 
overtook  them  I  offered  them  two  stirrups 
and  a  tail,  which  they  accepted  enthusiasti- 
cally. Ortheris  held  the  tail,  and  in  this 
manner  we  trotted  steadily  through  the 
shadows  by  the  unfrequented  road. 

At  the  turn  into  the  cantonments  we  heard 
carriage  wheels.  It  was  the  colonel's  ba- 
rouche, and  in  it  sat  the  colonel's  wife  and 
daughter.  I  caught  a  suppressed  chuckle, 
and  my  beast  sprung  forvk'ard  with  a  lighter 
step. 

The  Three  Musketeers  had  vanished  into 
the  night. 


THE  INCARNATION  OF  KRISHNA 
MULVANEY. 

Once  upon  a  time,  and  very  far  from  this 
land,  lived  three  men  who  loved  each  other 
so  greatly  that  neither  man  nor  woman 
could  come  between  them.  They  were  in 
no  sense  refined,  not  to  be  admitted  to  the 
outer  door-mats  of  decent  folk,  because  they 
happened  to  be  private  soldiers  in  her  ma- 
jesty's army;  and  private  soldiers  of  that 
employ  have  small  time  for  self-cuUure. 
Their  duty  is  to  keep  themselves  and  their 
accoutrements  specklessly  clean,  to  refrain 
from  getting  drunk  more  often  than  is  nec- 
essary, to  obey  their  superiors,  and  to  pray 
for  a  war.  All  these  things  my  friends  ac- 
complished ;  and  of  their  own  motion  threw 
in  some  fighting  work  for  which  the  army 
regulations  did  not  call.  Their  fate  sent 
them  to  serve  in  India,  which  is  not  a  golden 
country,  though  poets  have  sung  otherw'ise. 
There  men  die  witli  great  swiftness,  and 
those  who  live  suffer  many  and  curious 
things.  I  do  not  think  that  my  friends  con- 
cerned themselves  much  with  the  social  or 
political  aspects  of  the  East.  They  attended 
a  not  unimportant  war  on  the  northern 
frontier,  another  one  on  our  western  bound- 

(137) 


138  MULVANEY  STOEIES. 

an',  and  a  third  in  Upper  Burma.  Then 
their  regiment  sat  still  to  recruit,  and  the 
boundless  monotony  of  cantonment  life  was 
their  portion.  They  were  drilled  morning 
and  evening  on  the  same  dusty  parade- 
ground.  They  wandered  up  and  down  the 
same  stretch  of  dusty  white  road,  attended 
the  same  church  and  the  same  grog-shop, 
and  slept  in  the  same  lime- washed  barn  of  a 
barrack  for  two  long  years.  There  was  Mul- 
vaney,  the  father  in  the  craft,  who  had  served 
with  various  regiments  from  Bermuda  to 
Halifax,  old  in  war,  scarred,  reckless,  re- 
sourceful, and  in  his  pious  hours  an  un- 
equalled soldier.  To  him  turned  for  help 
and  comfort  six  and  a  half  feet  of  slow-mov- 
ing, heavy-footed  Yorkshireman,  born  on  the 
wolds,  bred  in  the  dales,  and  educated 
chiefly  among  the  carriers'  carts  at  the  back 
of  York  railway  station.  His  name  was 
Learoyd,  and  his  chief  virtue  an  unmiti- 
gated patience  which  helped  him  to  win. 
fights.  How  Ortheris,  a  fox-terrier  of  a 
cockney,  ever  came  to  be  one  of  the  trio,  is 
a  mystery  which  even  to-day  I  can  not  ex- 
plain. "  There  was  always  three  av  us," 
Mulvaney  used  to  sa3\  "An'  by  the  grace 
av  God,  so  long  as  our  service  lasts,  three  av 
us  they'll  always  be.     'Tis  betther  so.'' 

They  desired  no  companionshi]^  beyond 
their  own,  and  evil  it  was  for  any  man  of 
the  regiment  who  attempted  dispute  with 
them.     Phvsical  argument  was  out  of  the 


INCAENA  TION  OF  KRISUNA  MVL  VANEY.    139 

question  as  regarded  Mulvaney  and  the 
Yorkshireman ;  and  assault  on  Ortheris 
meant  a  combined  attack  from  these  twain 
— a  business  which  no  five  men  were  anx- 
ious to  have  on  their  hands.  Tlierefore 
they  flourished,  sharing  tlieir  drinks,  their 
tobacco,  and  their  money;  good  luck  and 
evil ;  battle  and  tlie  chances  of  death  ;  life 
and  the  chances  of  happiness  from  Calicut 
in  southern,  to  Peshawur  in  northern  India. 
Through  no  merit  of  my  own  it  was  my 
good  fortune  to  be  in  a  measure  admitted  to 
their  friendship — frankly  by  IMulvaney  from 
the  beginning,  sullenly  and  with  reluctance 
by  Learoyd,  and  suspiciously  by  Ortheris, 
who  held  to  it  that  no  man  not  in  the  army 
could  fraternize  with  a  red-coat.  "Like  to 
like,"'  said  he.  "  I'm  a  bloomin'  sodger — 
he's  a  Ijloomin'  civilian.  'Tain't  natural — 
that's  all." 

But  that  was  not  all.  They  thawed  pro- 
gressively, and  in  the  thawing  told  me  more 
of  their  lives  and  adventures  than  I  am  likely 
to  find  room  for  here. 

Omitting  all  else,  this  tale  begins  with  the 
Lamentable  Thirst  that  was  at  the  beginning 
of  First  Causes.  Never  was  such  a  thirst — 
Mulvaney  told  me  so.  They  kicked  against 
their  compulsory  virtue,  but  the  attempt  was 
only  successful  in  the  case  of  Ortheris.  He, 
whose  talents  were  many,  went  forth  into 
the  highways  and  stole  a  dog  from  a  "  civil- 
ian " — videlicet^  some  one,  he  knew  not  who, 


140  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

not  in  the  army.  Now  that  civilian  was  but 
newly  connected  by  marriage  with  the  col- 
onel of  the  regiment,  and  outcry  was  made 
from  quarters  least  anticipated  by  Ortheris, 
and  in  the  end  he  was  forced,  lest  a  worse 
thing  should  happen,  to  dispose  at  ridicu- 
lously unremunerative  rates  of  as  promising 
a  small  terrier  as  ever  graced  one  end  of  a 
leading-string.  The  purchase  mone}'  was 
barely  sufficient  for  one  small  outbreak 
which  led  him  to  the  guard-room.  He  es- 
caped, however,  with  nothing  worse  than  a 
severe  reprimand  and  a  few  hours  of  pun- 
ishment drill.  Not  for  nothing  had  he  ac- 
quired the  reputation  of  being  •'  the  best 
soldier  of  his  inches "  in  the  regiment. 
Mulvaney  had  taught  personal  cleanliness 
and  efficiency  as  the  first  articles  of  his  com- 
panions' creed.  "  A  diiirty  man,"  he  was 
used  to  say,  in  the  speech  oif  his  kind,  "  goes 
to  clink  for  a  weakness  in  the  knees,  an'  is 
coort-martialed  for  a  pair  av  socks  missin'; 
but  a  clane  man,  such  as  is  an  ornament  to 
his  service — a  man  whose  buttons  are  gold, 
whose  coat  is  wax  upon  him,  an'  whose 
'couterments  are  widout  a  speck — that  man 
may,  spakin'  in  reason,  do  fwhat  he  likes  an' 
dhrink  from  day  to  divil.  That's  the  pride 
av  bein'  dacint." 

We  sat  together  upon  a  day,  in  the  shade 
of  a  ravine  far  from  the  barracks,  where  a 
water-course  used  to  run  in  rainy  weather. 
Behind  us  was  the  scrub  jungle,  in  which 


INCAENA  TIOX  OF  KRISHNA  MVL  VANEY.    141 

jackalls,  peacocks,  the  gray  wolves  of  the 
North-western  Provinces,  and  occasionally  a 
tiger  estrayed  from  Central  India,  were  sup- 
posed to  dwell.  In  front  lay  the  cantonment, 
white  under  a  glaring  sun,  and  on  either  side 
ran  the  broad  road  that  led  to  Delhi. 

It  was  the  scrub  that  suggested  to  my 
mind  the  wisdom  of  Mulvaney  taking  a 
day's  leave  and  going  upon  a  shooting-tour. 
The  peacock  is  a  holy  bird  throughout  India, 
and  whoso  slays  one  is  in  danger  of  being 
mobbed  1)}'  the  nearest  villagers  ;  but  on  the 
last  occasion  that  INIulvaney  had  gone  forth 
he  had  contrived,  without  in  the  least  of- 
fending local  religious  susceptibilities,  to  re- 
turn with  six  beautiful  peacock  skins  which 
he  sold  to  profit.  It  seemed  just  possible 
then — 

"But  fwhat  manner  ave  use  is  ut  to  me 
goin'  out  widout  a  dhrink  ?  The  ground's 
powdher-dhry  under-foot,  an'  ut  gets  unto 
the  throat  fit  to  kill,"  wailed  Mulvaney,  look- 
ing at  me  reproachfully.  "  An'  a  peacock  is 
not  a  bird  you  can  catch  the  tail  av  onless 
ye  run.  Can  a  man  run  on  wather — an' 
jungle-wather  too?" 

Ortheris  had  considered  the  question  in 
all  its  bearings.  He  spoke,  chewing  his 
pipe-stem  meditatively  the  while: 

"  'Go  forth,  return  in  glory, 
To  Clnsium's  royal  'ome  : 
An'  round  tliese  bloomin'  temples  'ang 
The  bloomin'  shields  o'  Rome.' 


142  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

You  better  go.  You  ain't  like  to  shoot  your- 
self— not  while  there's  a  chanst  of  liquor. 
Me  an'  Learoj'd  '11  stay  at  'ome  an'  keep 
shop — case  o'  anythin'  turnin'  up.  But  you 
go  out  with  a  gas  pipe  gun  an'  ketch  the 
little  peacockses  or  somethin'.  You  kin 
get  one  day's  leave  easy  as  winkin'.  Go 
along  an'  get  it,  an'  get  j^eacockses  or  some- 
thin'." 

"Jock?"  said  Mulvaney,  turning  to  Lea- 
royd,  who  was  half  asleep  under  the  shadow 
of  the  bank.     He  roused  slowly. 

"Sitlia,  Mulvaney,  go,"  said  he. 

And  Mulvaney  went;  cursing  his  allies 
with  Irish  fluency  and  barrack  room  point. 

"  Take  note,"  said  he,  when  he  had  won 
his  holiday,  and  appeared  dressed  in  his 
roughest  clothes  with  the  only  other  regi- 
mental fowling-piece  in  his  hand — "  take 
note,  Jock,  an'  you,  Orth'ris,  I  am  goin'  in 
the  face  av  my  own  will — all  for  to  ])lease 
you.  I  misdoubt  anythin'  will  come  av  per- 
nicious huntin'  afther  peacockses  in  a  deso- 
lit  Ian' ;  an'  I  know  that  I  will  lie  down  an' 
die  wid  thirrst.  Me  catch  peacockses  for  you, 
ye  lazy  scutts — an'  be  sacrificed  by  the 
peasanthry — Ugh  !" 

He  waved  a  huge  paw  and  went  away. 

At  twilight,  long  before  the  ai)pointed 
hour,  he  returned  empty-handed,  much  be- 
grimed with  dirt. 

"Peacockses?"  queried  Ortheris,  from  the 
safe  rest  of  a  barrack-room  table  whereon 


INCARNA  TIOX  OF  KRISHNA  MVL  VANEY.    143 

he  was  sniokin<,^  cross-legged,  Learoyd  fast 
asleep  on  a  bench. 

"  Jock,"  said  Mulvaney  -without  answering, 
as  he  stirred  u])  tiie  sleeper.  "  Jock,  can  ye 
fight?     Will  ye  fight?" 

Very  slowly  the  meaning  of  the  words 
communicated  itself  to  the  half-roused  man. 
He  understood — and  again — what  might 
these  things  mean  ?  Mulvaney  was  shaking 
him  savagely.  Meantime  the  men  in  the 
room  howled  with  delight.  There  was  war 
in  the  confederacy  at  last — war  and  the 
breaking  of  bonds. 

Barrack-room  etiquette  is  stringent.  On 
the  direct  challenge  must  follow  the  direct 
reply.  This  is  more  binding  than  the  ties 
of  tried  friendship.  Once  again  Mulvaney 
repeated  the  question.  Learoyd  answered 
by  the  only  means  in  his  power,  and  so 
swiftly  that  the  Irishman  had  barely  time  to 
avoid  the  blow.  The  laughter  around  in- 
creased. Learoyd  looked  bewildered  at  his 
friend — himself  as  greatly  bewildered.  Orth- 
eris  dropped  from  the  table  because  his 
world  was  falling. 

"Come  outside,"  said  Mulvaney,  and  as 
the  occupants  of  the  barrack-room  prepared 
joyously  .to  follow,  he  turned  and  said  furi- 
ously:  "There  will  be  no  fight  this  night — 
onless  any  wan  av  you  is  wishful  to  assist. 
The  man  that  does,  follow  on." 

No  man  moved.  The  three  passed  out 
into  the  moonlight,  Learoyd  fumbling  with 


144  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

the  buttons  of  liis  coat.  The  parade-ground 
was  deserted  except  for  the  scurrying  jack- 
als. ]Mulvaney's  impetuous  rush  carried  his 
companions  far  into  the  open  ere  Learoyd 
attempted  to  turn  round  and  continue  the 
discussion. 

"  Be  still  now.  'Twas  my  fault  for  begin- 
in'  tilings  in  the  middle  av  an  end,  Jock.  I 
should  ha'  comminst  wid  an  explanion  ;  but 
Jock,  dear,  on  your  sowl  are  ye  fit,  think 
you,  for  the  finest  fight  that  iver  was — bet- 
ther  than  fightin'  me  ?  Considher  before  ye 
answer." 

More  than  ever  puzzled,  Learoyd  turned 
round  two  or  three  times,  felt  an  arm,  kicked 
tentatively,  and  answered,  "  Ah'm  fit."  He 
was  accustomed  to  fight  blindly  at  the  bid- 
ding of  the  superior  mind. 

They  sat  them  down,  the  men  looking  on 
from  afar,  and  Mulvaney  untiingled  himself 
in  mighty  words. 

"  FoUowin'  your  fools'  scheme  I  wint  out 
into  the  thrackless  desert  beyond  the  bar- 
ricks.  An'  there  I  met  a  pious  Hindu  dhriv- 
ing'  a  bullock-kyart.  I  tuk  ut  for  granted 
he  wud  be  delighted  for  to  convoy  me  a 
piece,  an'  I  jumped  in — " 

"You  long,  lazy,  black-haired  swine," 
drawled  Ortheris,  who  would  have  done  the 
same  thing  under  similar  circumstances. 

"  'Twas  the  height  av  policy.  That  nay- 
gur-man  dhruv  miles  an'  miles — as  far  as  the 
new  railway  line  they're  buildin'  now  back 


INCARXA  TION  OF  KRISHNA  Al  UL  VANEY.    145 

av  the  Tavi  River.  '  'Tis  a  kyart  for  dliirt 
only,'  say  he  now  an'  again,  timoreously,  to 
get  me  out  av  ut.  '  Dhirt  I  am,'  sez  I,  '  an' 
the  dhryest  that  you  iver  kyarted.  Dhrive 
on,  me  son,  an'  glory  be  wid  you.'  At  that 
I  wint  to  slape,  an'  took  no  heed  till  he 
pulled  up  on  the  embankmint  av  the  line 
Avhere  the  coolies  were  pilin'  mud.  There 
was  a  matther  av  two  thousand  coolies  on 
that  line — you  remimber  tiiat.  Prisintly  a 
bell  rang,  an'  they  throops  ofi'  to  a  big  pay- 
shed.  '  Where's  the  white  man  in  charge?' 
sez  I  to  my  kyart-dhriver.  '  In  the  shed,'  sez 
he,  '  engaged  on  a  riffle.'  *  A  fwhat?'  sez  I. 
'  Riffle,'  sez  he.  '  You  take  ticket.  He  take 
money.  You  get  nothin'.'  *Ohol'  sez  I, 
'that's  fwhat  the  shuper'or  an'  cultivated 
man  caMs  a  raffle,  me  misbeguided  child  av 
darkness  an'  sin.  Lead  on  to  that  raffle, 
though  fwhat  the  mischief  'tis  doin'  so  far 
away  from  uts  home — which  is  the  charity- 
bazaar  at  Christmas,  an'  the  colonel's  wife 
grinnin'  behind  the  tea-table — is  more  than 
I  know.'  Wid  that  I  wint  to  the  shed  an' 
found  'twas  pay-day  among  the  coolifs. 
Their  wages  was  on  a  table  forninst  a  big, 
fine,  red  buck  av  a  man— sivin  fut  high, 
four  fut  wide,  an'  three  fut  thick,  wid  a  fist 
on  him  like  a  corn-sack.  He  was  payin'  the 
coolies  f[ur  an'  easy,  but  he  wud  ask  each 
man  if  hewud  raffle  that  month,  an'each  man 
sez,  '  Yes,'  av  course.  Thin  he  wud  deduct 
from  their  wages  accordin'.  Whin  all  was 
10 


146  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

paid,  he  filled  an'  ould  cigar-box  full  av 
gun-wads  an'  scatthered  ut  among  the  coo- 
lies. They  did  not  take  much  joy  av  that 
performance,  an'  small  wondher.  A  man 
close  to  me  picks  up  a  black  gun-wad  an' 
sings  out,  'I  have  ut.'  'Good  may  ut  do 
you,'  sez  I.  The  coolie  wint  forward  to  the 
big,  fine,  red  man,  who  threw  a  cloth  off  the 
most  sumpshus,  jooled,  enameled,  an'  vari- 
ously bediviled  sedan-chair  I  iversaw." 

"Sedan-chair!  Put  your 'ead  in  a  bag. 
That  was  a  palanquin.  Don't  yer  know  a 
palanquin  when  you  see  it?"  said  Ortheris, 
with  great  scorn. 

"  I  chuse  to  call  ut  sedan-chair,  an'  chair 
ut  shall  be,  little  man,"  continued  the  Irish- 
man. "  'Twas  a  most  amazin'  chair — all 
lined  wid  pink  silk  an'  fitted  wid  red  silk 
curtains.     '  Here   ut  is,'   sez  the  red   man. 

*  Here  ut  is,'  sez  the  coolie,  an'  he  grinned 
weakly-ways.  '  Is  ut  any  use  to  you  ?'  sez 
the  red  man.  '  No,'  sez  the  coolie  ;  '  I'd  like 
to  make  a  presint  av  ut  to  you.'  '  I  am 
graciously  pleased  to  accept  that  same,'  sez 
the  red  man ,  '  an'  at  that  all  the  coolies 
cried  aloud  in  fwhat  was  mint  for  cheerful 
notes,  an'  wint  back  to  their  diggin',  lavin' 
me  alone  in  the  shed.  The  red  man  saw 
me,  an'  his  face  grew  blue  on  his  big,  fat 
neck.     'Fwhat   d'you   want   here?'  sez  he. 

*  Standin'-room  an'  no  more,'  sez  I,  '  onless 
it  may  be  fwhat  ye  niver  had,  an'  that's 
manners,  ye  rafflin'  ruffian,'  for  I  was  not 


INCARNATION  OF  KRISHNA  MULVANEY.    147 

goin'  to  have  the  service  throd  upon.  '  Out 
of  this,'  sez  he.  '  I'm  in  charge  av  this  sec- 
tion av  construction.'  '  I'm  in  charge  av 
mesilf,'  sez  I, '  an'  it's  like  I  will  stay  awhile. 
D'ye  raffle  much  in  these  parts?'  '  Fwhat's 
that  to  you?'  sez  he.  '  Nothin',  sez  I.  '  but 
a  great  dale  to  you,  for  begad  I'm  thinkin' 
you  get  the  full  half  av  your  revenue  from 
that  sedan-chair.  Is  ut  always  raffled  so  ?'  I 
sez,  an'  wid  that  I  wint  to  a  coolie  to  ask 
questions.  Bhoys,  that  man's  name  is 
Dearsley ,  an'  he's  been  rafflin'  tliat  old  sedan- 
chair  monthly/  this  matter  av  nine  "months. 
Ivry  coolie  on  the  section  takes  a  ticket — or 
he  gives  'em  the  go — wanst  a  month  on  i)ay- 
day.  Ivry  coolie  that  wins  ut  gives  ut  back 
to  him,  for  'tis  too  big  to  carry  away,  an  he'd 
sack  the  man  that  thried  to  sell  ut.  That 
Dearsley  has  been  makin'  the  rowlin'  wealth 
av  Roshus  b}'  nefarious  rafflin'.  Think  av 
the  burnin'  shame  to  the  sufi'erin'  coolic-man 
tliat  the  army  in  Injia  are  bound  to  protect 
an'  nourish  in  their  bosoms  !  Two  thousand 
coolies  defrauded  wanst  a  month  !" 

"  Dom  t'coolies.  Hast  gotten  t'  cheer, 
man  ?"  said  Learoyd. 

"  Hould  on.  Havin'  onearthed  tliis  ama- 
zin'  an'  stupenjus  fraud  committed  by  the 
man  Dearsley,  I  hild  a  council  av  war,  he 
thryin'  all  the  time  to  sejuce  me  into  a  fight 
wid  opprobrious  language.  That  sedan-chair 
niver  belonged  by  right  to  any  foreman  av 
coolies.     'Tis  a  king's  chair  or   a   quane's. 


148  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

There's  gold  on  lit  an'  silk  an'  all  manner 
of  trapesemints.  Bhoys,  'tis  not  for  me  to 
countenance  any  sort  av  wrong-doin' — me 
bein'  the  ould  man — but — any  way  he  has 
had  ut  nine  months,  an'  he  dare  not  make 
throuble  av  ut  was  taken  from  him.  Five 
miles  away,  or  ut  may  be  six — " 

There  was  a  long  pause,  and  the  jackals 
howled  merrily.  Learoyd  bared  one  arm, 
and  contemplated  it  in  the  moonHght.  Then 
he  nodded  partly  to  himself  and  partly  to 
his  friends.  Ortheris  wriggled  with  sup- 
pressed emotion. 

"  I  thought  ye  wud  see  the  reasonableness 
av  ut,"  said  Mulvaney.  "  I  made  bould  to 
say  as  much  to  the  man  before.  He  was  for 
a  direct  front  attack — fut,  horse,  an'  guns — 
an'  all  for  nothin,'  seein'  that  I  had  no 
thransport  to  convey  the  machine  away. 
*  I  will  not  argue  wid  you,'  sez  I,  '  this  day. 
butsubsequintly.  Mister  Dearsley,  me  rafflin' 
jool,  we  talk  ut  out  lengthways.  'Tis  no 
good  policy  to  swindle  the  naygur  av  his 
hard-earned  emolumints,  an'  by  presint  in- 
formashin' — 'twas  the  kyart-man  that  tould 
me — '  ye've  been  perpeth rating  that  same 
for  nine  months.  But  I'm  a  just  man,'  sez 
I,  '  an'  overlookin'  the  presumpshin  that 
yondher  settee  wid  the  gilt  top  was  not  kem 
"by  honust' — at  that  he  turned  sky-green,  so  I 
knew  things  was  more  thrue  than  tellable — 
'not  kem  by  honust, I'm  willin'  to  compound 
the  felony  for  this  month's  winnin's.' " 


i 


INCA  EN  A  TIOX  OF  KRISIIXA  J/  UL  I'AXE  Y.    149 

"  Ah  !     Ho  !"  from  Learoyd  and  Ortheris. 

"  That  man  Dearsley's  rushin'  on  his 
fate,"  continued  IMulvaney,  solemnly  wag- 
ging his  head.  "AH  hell  had  no  name  bad 
enough  for  me  that  tide.  Faith,  he  called 
me  a  robber!  Me!  that  was  savin'  him 
from  continuin'  in  his  evil  wa3'S  widout  a 
remonstrince — an'  to  a  man  av  conscience  a 
remonstrince  may  change  the  chune  av  his 
life,  '  'Tis  not  for  me  to  argue,'  sez  I, 
'fwhatever  ye  are,  Mister  Dearsley,  but  by 
me  hand  I'll  take  away  the  timptation  for 
you  that  lies  in  that  sedan  chair.'  'You 
will  have  to  fight  me  for  ut,'  sez  he, '  for  well 
I  know  you  will  never  dare  make  report  to 
any  one.'  *  Fight  I  will,'  sez  I,  '  but  not  this 
day,  for  I'm  rejuced  for  want  av  nourish- 
ment.' '  Ye're  an  ould,  bould  hand,'  sez  he, 
sizin'  me  up  an'  down ;  '  an'  a  jool  av  a  fight 
we  will  have.  Eat  now  an'  dhrink,  an'  go 
your  way.'  Wid  that  he  gave  me  some 
hump  an'  whisky — good  whisky — an'  we 
talked  av  this  an'  that  the  while.  'It  goes 
hard  on  me  now,'  sez  I,  wipin'  me  mouth, 
*  to  confiscate  that  piece  av  furniture,  but 
justice  is  justice.'  'Ye've  not  got  ut  yet.' 
sez  he;  'there's  the  fight  between.'  'There 
is,'  sez  I,  'an'  a  good  fight.  Y'e  shall  have 
the  pick  av  the  best  quality  in  my  rig'mint 
for  the  dinner  you  have  given  this  day.' 
Thin  I  came  hot-foot  to  you  two.  Hould 
your  tongue,  the  both.  'Tis  this  way.  To- 
morrow we  three  will  go  there  an'  he  shall 


150  MUL  VAXEY  STORIE!?. 

have  Ins  pick  betune  me  an'  Jock.  Jock's 
a  deceivin'  fighter,  for  he  is  all  fat  to  the  eye, 
an'  he  moves  slow.  Now  I'm  all  beef  to  the 
look,  an'  I  move  quick.  By  me  reckonin' 
the  Dearsley  man  won't  take  me ;  so  me  an' 
Orth'ris  '11  see  fair  play.  Jock,  I  tell  you, 
'twill  be  big  fightin' — whipped,  with  the 
cream  above  the  jam.  Afther  the  business 
'twill  take  a  good  three  av  us — Jock  '11  be 
very  hurt — to  take  away  that  sedan-chair." 

"  Palanquin."     This  from  Ortheris. 

"  Fwhatever  ut  is,  we  must  have  ut.  'Tis 
the  only  sellin'  piece  av  property  widin  reach 
that  we  can  get  so  cheap.  An'  fwhat's  a 
fight,  afther  all  ?  He  has  robbed  the  nay- 
gur-man,  dishonust.  We  rob  him  honust 
for  the  sake  av  the  wdiisky  he  gave  me." 

"  But  wot'll  we  do  with  the  bloomin'  har- 
ticle  when  we've  got  it?  Them  palanquins 
are  as  big  as  'ouses,  an'  uncommon  'ard  to 
sell,  as  McCleary  said  wdien  he  stole  the 
sentry-box  from  the  Curragh." 

"  Who's  goin'  to  do  t'  fightin'?" said  Lea- 
ro3'd,  and  Ortheris  subsided.  The  three  re- 
turned to  barracks  without  a  word.  Mul- 
vany's  last  argument  clinched  the  matter. 
The  palanquin  was  property,  vendible  and 
to  be  attained  in  the  simplest  and  least  em- 
barrassing fashion.  It  would  eventually  be- 
come beer.     Great  was  Mulvaney. 

Next  afternoon  a  procession  of  three 
formed  itself  and  disappeared  into  the  scrub 
in  the   direction  of  the  new  railway  line. 


IXCARXATIOX  OF  KRISHNA  MULVANEY.    151 

LearoyJ  alone  was  without  care,  for  Mul- 
vaney  dived  darkly  into  the  future,  and  lit- 
tle Ortherus  feared  the  unknown.  What 
befell  at  that  interview  in  the  lonely  pay- 
shed  by  the  side  of  the  half-built  embank- 
ment only  a  few  hundred  coolies  know,  and 
their  tale  is  a  confusing  one,  running  thus  : 
"We  were  at  work.  Three  men  in  red 
coats  came.  They  saw  the  sahib — Dearsley 
Sahib.  They  made  oration,  and  noticeably 
the  small  man  among  the  red-coats.  Dears- 
ley  Sahib  also  made  oration,  and  used  many 
very  strong  words.  Upon  this  talk  they  de- 
parted together  to  an  open  space,  and  there 
the  fat  man  in  the  red  coat  fought  with 
Dearsley  Sahib  after  the  custom  of  white 
men — with  his  hands,  making  no  noise,  and 
never  at  all  pulling  Dearsley  Sahib's  hair. 
Such  of  us  as  were  not  afraid  beheld  these 
things  for  just  so  long  a  time  as  a  man  needs 
to  cook  the  midday  meal.  The  smnll  man 
in  the  red  coat  had  possessed  himself  of 
Dearsley  Sahib's  watch.  No,  he  did  not 
steal  that  watch.  He  held  it  in  his  hand, 
and  at  certain  seasons  made  outcry,  and  the 
twain  ceased  their  combat,  which  was  like 
the  combat  of  young  bulls  in  spring.  Both 
men  were  soon  all  red,  but  Dearsley  Sahib 
was  much  more  red  than  the  other.  Seeing 
this,  and  fearing  for  his  life — because  we 
greatly  loved  him — some  fifty  of  us  made 
shift  to  rush  upon  the  red-coats.  But  a  cer- 
tain man — very  black  as  to  the  hair,  and  in 


152  MUL VA XEY  STORIES. 

no  way  to  be  confused  with  the  small  man, 
or  the  fat  man  who  fought — that  man,  we 
affirm,  ran  upon  us,  and  of  us  he  embraced 
some  ten  or  fifty  in  both  arms,  and  beat  our 
heads  together,  so  that  our  livers  turned  to 
water,  and  we  ran  away.  It  is  not  good  to 
interfere  in  the  fightings  of  white  men. 
After  that  Dearsley  Sahib  fell  and  did  not 
rise,  these  men  jumped  upon  his  stomach 
and  despoiled  him  of  all  his  money,  and  at- 
tempted to  fire  the  pay-shed,  and  departed. 
Is  it  true  that  Dearsley  Sahib  makes  no 
complaint  of  these  latter  things  having  been 
done?  We  were  senseless  with  fear,  and  do 
not  at  all  remember.  There  was  no  palan- 
quin near  the  pay-shed.  What  do  Ave  know 
about  palanquins  ?  Is  it  true  that  Dearsley 
Sahib  does  not  return  to  his  place,  on  ac- 
count of  his  sickness,  for  ten  days  ?  This 
is  the  fault  of  those  bad  men  in  the  red 
coats,  who  should  be  severely  punished  ;  for 
Dearsley  Sahib  is  both  our  father  and 
mother,  and  we  love  him  much.  Yet,  if 
Dearsley  Sahib  does  not  return  to  this  place 
at  all,  we  will  speak  the  truth.  There  was  a 
palanquin,  for  the  up-keep  of  which  we  were 
forced  to  pay  nine-tenths  of  our  monthly 
wage.  On  such  mulctings  Dearsley  Sahib 
allowed  us  to  make  obeisance  to  him  before 
the  palanquin.  What  could  we  do?  We 
were  poor  men.  He  took  a  full  half  of  our 
wages.  Will  the  government  repa}'  us  those 
moneys?     Those   three  men  in   red  coats 


IXCAEXA  TIOX  OF  KBISUyA  MVL VANEY.    153 

bore  the  palanquin  upon  their  shoulders 
and  departed.  AH  the  money  that  Dearsley 
Sahib  had  taken  from  us  was  in  the  cushions 
of  that  palanquin.  Therefore  they  stole  it. 
Thousands  of  rupees  were  there— all  our 
money.  It  was  our  bank-box,  to  fill  which 
we  cheerfully  contributed  to  Dearsley  Sahib 
three-sevenths  of  our  monthly  wage.  Why 
does  the  white  man  look  upon  us  with  the 
eye  of  disfavor  ?  Before  God,  there  was  a 
palanquin,  and  now  there  is  no  palanquin  ; 
and  if  they  send  the  police  here  to  make  in- 
quisition, we  can  only  say  that  there  never 
has  been  any  palanquin.  Why  should  a 
palanquin  be  near  these  works?  We  are 
poor  men,  and  we  know  nothing." 

Such  is  the  simplest  version  of  the  sim- 
plest story  connected  with  the  descent  upon 
Dearsley.  From  the  lips  of  the  coolies  I  re- 
ceived it.  Dearsley  himself  was  in  no  con- 
dition to  say  anything,  and  Mulvaney  pre- 
served a  massive  silence,  broken  only  by 
the  occasional  licking  of  the  lips.  He  had 
seen  a  fight  so  gorgeous  that  even  his  power 
of  speech  was  taken  from  him.  I  respected 
that  reserve  until,  three  days  after  the  affair, 
I  discovered  in  a  disused  stable  in  my  quar- 
ters a  palanquin  of  unchastened  splendor — 
evidently  in  past  days  the  litter  of  a  queen. 
The  pole  whereby  it  swung  between  the 
shoulders  of  the  bearers  was  rich  with  the 
painted  pnpier-mnche  of  Cnshmere.  The 
shoulder-pads   were   of  yellow  silk.      The 


154  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

panels  of  the  litter  itself  were  ablaze  with 
the  loves  of  all  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  the 
Hindu  Pantheon — lacquer  on  cedar.  The 
cedar  sliding-doors  were  fitted  with  hasps 
of  translucent  Jaipur  enamel,  and  ran  in 
grooves  shod  with  silver.  The  cushions  were 
of  brocaded  Delhi  silk,  and  the  curtains, 
which  once  hid  any  glimpse  of  the  beauty 
of  the  king's  palace,  were  stiff  with  gold. 
Closer  investigation  showed  that  the  entire 
fabric  was  everywhere  rubbed  and  discolored 
by  time  and  wear;  but  even  thus  it  was 
sufficiently  gorgeous  to  deserve  housing  on 
the  threshold  of  a  royal  zenana.  I  found  no 
fault  with  it,  except  that  it  was  in  my  stable. 
Then,  trying  to  lift  it  by  the  silver-shod 
shoulder-pole,  I  laughed.  The  road  from 
Dearsley's  pay-shed  to  the  cantonment  was 
a  narrow  and  uneven  one,  and,  traversed  by 
three  very  inexperienced  palanquin-bearers, 
one  of  whom  was  sorely  battered  about  the 
head,  must  have  been  a  path  of  torment. 
Still  I  did  not  quite  recognize  the  right  of 
the  three  musketeers  to  turn  me  into  a 
*'  fence  "  for  stolen  property. 

"  I'm  askin'  you  to  warehouse  ut,"  said 
Mulvaney  when  he  was  brought  to  consider 
the  question.  "  There's  no  steal  in  ut. 
Dearsley  tould  us  we  cud  have  ut  if  we 
fought.  Jock  fought — an'  oh,  sorr,  when 
the  throublc  was  ut  its  finest  an' Jock  was 
bleedin'  like  a  stuck  pig,  and  little  Orth'ris 
was  shquealin'  on  one  leg  chewin'  big  bites 


IXCA RNA  TIOX  OF  KRISHNA  MUL  VANEY.    155 

out  av  Dearsley's  watch,  I  wud  ha'  given 
my  phice  at  the  fight  to  have  had  you  see 
wan  round.  He  tuk  Jock,  as  I  suspicioned 
lie  would,  an'  Jock  was  deceptive.  Nine 
roun's  they  were  even  matched,  an'  at  the 
tenth —  About  that  palanquin  now.  There's 
not  the  least  throuble  in  the  world,  or  we 
wud  not  ha'  brought  ut  here.  You  will  on- 
dherstand  that  the  queen — God  bless  her  ! — 
does  not  reckon  for  a  privit  soldier  to  kape 
elephints  an'  palanquins  an'  sich  in  bar- 
ricks.  Afther  we  had  dhragged  ut  down 
from  Dearsley's  through  that  cruel  scrub 
that  near  broke  Orth'ris's  heart,  we  set  ut  in 
the  ravine  for  a  night ;  an'  a  thief  av  a  por- 
cupine an'  a  civet  av  a  jackal  roosted  in  ut, 
as  well  we  knew  in  the  mornin'.  I  put  ut 
to  you,  sorr,  is  an  elegant  palanquin,  fit  for 
the  princess,  the  natural  abidin'-place  av  all 
the  vermin  in  cantonmints?  We  brought 
utto  you,  afther  dhark,  and  put  ut  in  your 
slitable.  Do  not  let  your  conscience  prick. 
Think  av  the  rejoicin'  men  in  the  ])ay-shed 
yonder — lookin'  at  Dearsley  wid  his  head 
tied  up  in  a  towel — an'  well  knowin'  that 
they  can  dhraw  their  pay  ivry  month  wid  out 
stoppages  for  riffles.  Indirectly,  sorr,  you 
have  rescued  from  an  onprincipled  son  of  a 
night-hawk  the  peasanthry  av  a  numerous 
village.  An',  besides,  will  I  let  that  sedan- 
chair  rot  on  our  hands?  Not  I.  'Tis  not 
every  day  a  piece  av  pure  joolry  comes  into 
the  market.     There's  not  a  king  widin  these 


156  3IUL  VA XE Y  S TORIES. 

forty  miles" — he  waved  his  hand  around  the 
dusty  horizon —  '  not  a  king  wud  not  be 
glad  to  buy  ut.  Some  day  mesilf,  whin  I 
have  leisure,  I'll  take  ut  up  along  the  road 
an'  dish  pose  av  ut." 

"  How  ?"  said  I,  for  I  knew  the  man  was 
capable  of  anything. 

"Get  into  ut,  av  coorse,  an'  keep  wan  eye 
open  through  the  curtains.  Whin  I  see  a 
likely  man  av  the  native  persuasion,  I  will 
discind  blushin'  from  me  canopy  an'  say  : 
'Buy  a  palanquin,  ye  black  scutt?'  I  will 
have  to  hire  four  men  to  carry  me  first, 
though  •  and  that's  impossible  till  next  pay- 
day." 

Curiously  enough,  Learoyd,  who  had 
fought  for  the  prize,  and  in  winning  secured 
the  highest  pleasure  life  had  to  offer  him, 
was  altogether  disposed  to  undervalue  it, 
while  Ortheris  openly  said  that  it  would  be 
better  to  break  the  thing  up.  Dearsley,  he 
argued,  might  be  a  many-sided  man,  capable, 
despite  his  magnificent  fighting  qualities,  of 
setting  in  motion  the  machinery  of  the  civil 
law — a  thing  much  abhorred  by  the  soldier. 
Under  any  circumstances  their  fun  had  come 
and  passed ;  the  next  pay-day  was  close  a 
hand,  when  there  would  be  beer  for  all. 
Wherefore  longer  conserve  the  painted  pa- 
lanquin? 

"A  first-class  rifle-shot,  an'  a  good  little 
man  av  your  inches  you  are,"  said  Mulvaney. 
"  But  you  niver  had  a  head  worth  a  soft- 


INCARNATION  OF  KRISHNA  MULVANEY.    157 

boiled  egg.  'Tis  me  has  to  lie  awake  av 
nights  schamin'  an'  plottin'  for  the  three  av 
ns.  Orth'ris,  me  son,  'tis  no  matther  av  a 
few  gallons  av  beer — no,  nor  twinty  gallons 
— but  tubs  an'  vats  an'  firkins  in  that  sedan- 
chair.  Who  ut  was,  an'  what  ut  was,  an' 
how  lit  got  there,  we  do  not  know  ;  but  I 
know  in  me  bones  that  you  an'  me  an'  Jock 
wid  his  sprained  thumb  will  get  a  fortune 
thereby.     Lave  me  alone,  an'  let  me  think." 

Meantime  the  palanquin  stayed  in  my 
stall,  the  key  of  which  was  in  Mulvaney's 
hands. 

Pay-day  came,  and  with  it  beer.  It  was 
not  in  experience  to  "hope  that  Mulvaney, 
dried  by  tour  weeks'  drought,  would  avoid 
excess.  Next  morning  he  and  the  palan- 
quin had  disappeared.  He  had  taken  the 
precaution  of  getting  three  days' leave  "to 
see  a  friend  on  the  railway,"  and  the  col- 
onel, well  knowing  that  the  seasonal  out- 
burst was  near,  and  hoping  it  would  spend 
its  force  beyond  the  limits  of  his  jurisdic- 
tion, cheerfully  gave  him  all  he  demanded. 
At  this  point  his  history,  as  recorded  in  the 
mess-room,  stopped. 

Ortheris  carried  it  not  much  further. 
"No,  'e  wasn't  drunk,"  said  the  little  man, 
loyally,  "the  liquor  was  no  more  than  feel- 
in'  its  way  round  inside  of  'im;  but  'e  went 
an'  filled  that  'ole  bloomin'  palanquin  with 
bottles  'fore  'e  went  off.  He's  gone  'an  'ired 
six  men  to  carry  'im,  an'  I  'ad  to  'elp  'im 


158  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

into  'is  nupshal  couch,  'cause  'e  wouldn't 
'ear  reason.  'E's  gone  off  in  'is  shirt  an' 
trousies,  swearin'  tremenjus — gone  down  the 
road  in  the  palanquin,  wavin'  'is  legs  out  o' 
the  windy." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  but  where  ?' ' 

"  Now  you  arx  me  a  question.  'E  said  'e  was 
goin'  to  sell  that  palanquin,  but  from  obser- 
vations what  happened  when  I  was  stuffin' 
'ira  through  the  door,  I  fancy  'e's  gone  to 
the  new  embankment  to  mock  at  Dearsley. 
Soon  as  Jock's  off  duty  I'm  goin'  there  to 
see  if  'e's  safe — not  Mulvaney,  but  t'other 
man.  My  saints  but  I  pity  'im  as  'elps  Ter- 
ence out  o'  the  palanquin  when  'e's  once  fail 
drunk!" 

"  He'll  come  back  without  harm,"  I  said. 

"  'Corse  'e  will.  On'y  question  is,  what  '11 
'e  be  doin'  on  the  road.  Killin'  Dearsley, 
like  as  not.  'E  shouldn't  'a'  gone  without 
Jock  or  me." 

Reinforced  by  Learoyd,  Ortheris  sought 
the  foreman  of  the  coolie  gang.  Dearsley 's 
head  was  still  embellished  with  towels. 
Mulvaney,  drunk  or  sober,  would  have 
struck  no  man  in  that  condition,  and  Dears- 
ley  indignantly  denied  that  he  would  bave 
taken  advantage  of  the  intoxicated  brave. 

"I  had  my  pick  o'  you  two,"  he  explained 
to  Learoyd,  "and  you  got  my  palanquin — 
not  before  I'd  made  my  profit  on  it.  Why'd 
I  do  any  harm  when  everything's  settled? 
Your  man  did  come  here — drunk  as  Davy's 


INCAENA  TION  OF  KRISHNA  MUL  VANEY.    159 

SOW  on  a  frosty  night — came  a-purpose  to 
mock  me — stuck  liis  head  out  o'the  door  an' 
called  me  a  crucified  hodman.  I  made  him 
drunker,  an'  sent  him  along.  But  I  never 
touched  him." 

To  these  things  Learoyd,  slow  to  perceive 
the  evidences  of  sincerity,  answered  only, 
"  If  owt  comes  to  Mulvaney  'long  o'  you, 
I'll  gripple  you,  clouts  or  no  clouts  on  your 
ugly  head,  an'  I'll  draw  t'  throat  twisty- 
ways,  man.     See  there  now." 

The  embassy  removed  itself,  and  Dears- 
ley,  the  battered,  laughed  alone  over  his 
supper  that  evening. 

Three  days  passed — a  fourth  and  a  fifth. 
The  week  drew  to  a  close  and  Mulvaney  did 
not  return.  He,  his  royal  palanquin,  and 
his  six  attendants  had  vanished  into  air.  A 
very  large  and  very  tipsy  soldier,  his  feet 
sticking  out  of  the  litter  of  a  reigning  prin- 
cess, is  not  a  thing  to  travel  along  the  ways 
without  comment.  Yet  no  man  of  all  the 
country  round  had  seen  any  such  wonder. 
He  was,  and  he  was  not ;  and  Learoyd  sug- 
gested the  immediate  smashment  of  Dears- 
ley  as  a  sacrifice  to  his  ghost.  Ortheris 
insisted  that  all  was  well,  and  in  the  light  of 
past  experience  his  hopes  seemed  reasonable. 

"  When  INIulvaney  goes  up  the  road,"  said 
he,  "  'e's  like  to  go  a  very  long  ways  up, 
specially  when  'e's  so  blue  drunk  as  'e  is 
now.  But  what  gits  me  is  'is  not  bein' 
'eared  of  pullin'  wool  off  the  niggers  some- 


160  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

wheres  about.  That  don't  look  good.  The 
drink  must  ha'  died  out  in  'ini  by  this,  un- 
less 'e's  broke  a  bank,  an  then —  Why 
don't  'e  come  back?  'E  didn't  ought  to  ha' 
gone  off  without  us." 

Even  Ortheris's  heart  sunk  at  the  end  of 
the  seventh  day,  for  half  the  regiment  were 
out  scouring  the  country-side,  and  Learoyd 
had  been  forced  to  figlittwo  men  who  liinted 
openly  that  Mulvaney  had  deserted.  To  do 
him  justice,  the  colonel  laughed  at  the  no- 
tion, even  when  it  was  put  forward  by  his 
much-trusted  adjutant. 

"  Mulvaney  would  as  soon  think  of  desert- 
ing as  you  would,"  said  he.  "  No,  he's  either 
fallen  into  a  mischief  among  the  villagers — 
and  yet  that  iain't  likely,  for  he'd  blarney 
himself  out  of  the  Pit ;  or  else  he  is  engaged 
on  urgent  private  affairs — some  stupendous 
devilment  that  we  shall  hear  of  at  mess  after 
it  has  been  tlie  round  of  the  barrack-rooms. 
The  worst  of  it  is  that  I  shall  have  to  give 
him  twenty-eight  days'  confinenient  at  least 
for  being  absent  without  leave,  just  when  I 
most  want  him  to  lick  the  new  batch  of  re- 
cruits into  shape.  I  never  knew  a  man  who 
could  put  a  polish  on  young  soldiers  as 
quickly  as  Mulvaney  can.  How  does  he  do 
?t?" 

"  With  blarney  and  the  buckle-end  of  a 
belt,  sir,"  said  the  adjutant.  "  He  is  worth 
a  couple  of  non-commissioned  officers  when 
we  are  dealin'  w^h  an  Irish  draft,  and  the 


INCARNA  TION  OF  KRISHNA  M  UL I 'AXEr.    1 G 1 

London  lads  seem  to  adore  him.  The  worst 
of  it  is  that  if  he  goes  to  the  cells  the  other 
two  are  neither  to  hold  nor  to  bind  till  he 
comes  out  again.  I  believe  Ortheris  preaches 
mutiny  on  those  occasions,  and  I  know  that 
the  mere  presence  of  Learoyd  mourning 
for  Mulvaney  kills  all  the  clieerfulness  of 
his  room.  The  sergeant  tells  me  that  he 
allows  no  man  to  laugh  when  he  feels  un- 
happy.    They  are  a  queer  gang." 

"For  all  that,  I  wish  we  had  a  few  more 
of  them.  I  like  a  well-conducted  regiment, 
but  these  pasty-faced,  shifty-eyed,  mealy- 
mouthed  young  slouchers  from  the  depot 
worry  me  sometimes  with  their  offensive 
virtue.  They  don't  seem  to  have  backbone 
enough  to  do  anything  but  play  cards  and 
prowl  round  the  married  quarters.  I  believe 
I'd  forgive  that  old  villain  on  the  spot  if  he 
turned  up  with  any  sort  of  explanation  that 
I  could  in  decency  accept." 

"  Not  likely  to  be  much  difficulty  about 
that,  sir,"  said  the  adjutant.  "  Mulvaney 's  ex- 
planations are  only  one  degree  less  wonderful 
than  his  performances.  They  sny  that  when 
he  was  in  the  Black  Tyrone,  before  he  came 
to  us,  he  was  discovered  on  the  banks  of  the 
Liffy  trying  to  sell  his  colonel's  charger  to  a 
Donegal  dealer  as  a  perfect  lady's  hack. 
Shackbolt  commanded  the  Tyrone  then." 

"Shackbolt  must  have  had  apoplexy  at 
the  thought  of  his  ramping  war-horse  an- 
swering to  that  description.  He  used  to 
11 


162  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

buy  unbacked  devils,  and  tame  them  by 
some  pet  theory  of  starvation.  What  did 
Mulvaney  say  ?" 

"That  he  was  a  member  of  the  Society 
for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals, 
anxious  to  'sell  the  poor  baste  where  he  would 
get  something  to  fill  out  his  dimples.'  Shack- 
bolt  laughed,  but  I  fancy  that  was  why  Mul- 
vaney exchanged  to  ours." 

"  I  wish  he  were  back,"  said  the  colonel; 
"  for  I  like  him  and  believe  he  likes  me." 

That  evening,  to  cheer  our  souls,  Learoyd. 
Ortheris  and  I  went  into  the  waste  to  smoke 
out  a  porcupine.  All  the  dogs  attended,  but 
even  their  clamor — and  they  began  to  discuss 
the  shortcomings  of  porcupines  before  they 
left  cantonments — could  not  take  us  out  of 
■ourselves.  A  large,  low  moon  turned  the 
tops  of  the  plume-grass  to  silver,  and  the 
■stunted  camel  thorn-bushes  and  sour  tama- 
risks into  the  likenesses  of  trooping  devils. 
The  smell  of  the  sun  had  not  left  the  earth, 
and  little  aimless  winds  blowing  across  the 
rose-gardens  to  the  southward  brought  the 
scent  of  dried  roses  and  water.  Our  fire  once 
started,  and  the  dogs  craftily  disposed  to 
wait  the  dash  of  the  porcupine,  we  climbed 
to  the  top  of  a  rain-scarred  hillock  of  earth, 
and  looked  across  the  scrub  seamed  with 
cattle-paths,  white  with  the  long  grass,  and 
■dotted  with  spots  of  level  pond-bottom, 
where  the  snipe  would  gather  in  winter. 

"  This,"  said  Ortheris,  with  a  sigh,  as  he 


IXCARNA  TIOX  OF  KRISHNA  M  VL  VANE  Y.    163 

took  in  the  nnkempt  desolation  of  it  all, 
"  this  is  sanguinary.  This  is  unusual  san- 
guinary. Sort  o'  mad  country.  Like  a 
grate  when  the  fire's  put  out  by  the  sun.'^ 
He  shaded  his  eyes  against  the  moonlight. 
"An'  there's  a  loony  dancin'  in  the  middle 
of  it  all.  Quite  right.  I'd  dance  too  if  I 
wasn't  so  downheart." 

There  pranced  a  portent  in  the  face  of  the 
moon — a  huge  and  ragged  spirit  of  the 
waste,  that  flapped  its  wings  from  afar.  It 
had  risen  out  of  the  earth ;  it  was  coming 
toward  us,  and  its  outline  was  never  twice 
the  same.  The  toga,  table-cloth,  or  dress- 
ing-gown, whatever  the  creature  wore,  took 
a  hundred  shapes.  Once  it  stopped  on  a 
neighboring  mound  and  flung  all  its  legs 
and  arras  to  the  winds. 

"  My,  but  that  scarecrow  'as  got  'em 
bad !"  said  Ortheris.  "  Seems  like  if  'e 
comes  anv  furder  we'll  'ave  to  argify  with 
'im." 

Learoyd  raised  himself  from  the  dirt  as  a 
bull  clears  his  flanks  of  the  wallow.  And 
as  the  bull  bellows,  so  he,  after  a  short 
minute  at  gaze,  gave  tongue  to  the  stars. 

"Mulvaaxey!  Mulvaaxey!     A  hoo  !" 

Then  we  yelled  all  together,  and  the  figure 
dipped  into  the  hollow,  till,  with  a  crash  of 
rending  grass,  the  lost  one  strolled  up  to  the 
light  of  the  fire  and  disappeared  to  the  waist 
in  a  wave  of  joyous  dogs.  Then  Learoyd 
and  Ortheris  gave  greeting,  bass  and  falsetto 


164  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

together,  both  swallowing  a  lump  in  the 
throat. 

"  You  damned  fool !"  said  they,  and  sev- 
erally pounded  him  with  their  fists. 

"  Go  easy !"  he  answered,  wrapping  a  huge 
arm  round  each.  •'  I  would  have  you  know 
that  I  am  a  god,  to  be  treated  as  such — tho,' 
b}'-  me  faith,  I  fancy  I've  got  to  go  to  the 
guard-room  just  like  a  privit  soldier." 

The  latter  part  of  the  sentence  destroyed 
the  suspicions  raised  by  the  former.  Any 
one  would  have  been  justified  in  regarding 
Mulvaney  as  mad.  He  was  hatless  and 
shoeless,  and  his  shirt  and  trowsers  were 
dropping  off  him.  But  he  wore  one  won- 
drous garment— a  gigantic  cloak  that  fell 
from  collar-bone  to  heel — of  pale  pink  silk, 
wrought  all  over  in  the  cunningest  needle- 
work of  hands  long  since  dead,  with  the 
loves  of  the  Hindu  gods.  The  monstrous 
figures  leaped  in  and  out  of  the  light  of  the 
fire  as  he  settled  the  folds  round  him. 

Ortheris  handled  the  stuff  respectfully  for 
a  moment  while  I  was  trying  to  remember 
where  I  had  seen  it  before.  Then  he 
screamed,  "  What  'are  you  done  with  the 
palanquin  ?     You're  wearin'  the  linin'." 

"I  am,"  said  the  Irishman,  "an'  by  the 
same  token  the  'broidery  is  scrapin'  me  hide 
off.  I've  lived  in  this  sumpshus  counter- 
pane for  four  days.  Me  son,  I  begin  to  on- 
dherstand  why  the  naygur  is  no  use.  Wid- 
out  me  boots,  an'  me  trousies  like  an  open- 


INCARNATION  OF  KRISHNA  MULVANEY.    165 

work  stocking  on  a  gyurl's  leg  at  a  dance,  I 
begin  to  feel  like  a  naygnr-man — all  fearful 
and  timoreous.  Give  me  a  pipe  an'  I'll  tell 
on." 

He  lighted  a  pipe,  resumed  his  grip  of  his 
two  friends,  and  rocked  to  and  fro  in  a  gale 
of  laughter. 

"  Mulvaney,"  said  Ortheris,  sternly, 
"  'tain't  no  time  for  laughin'.  You've  given 
Jock  an'  me  more  trouble  than  you're  worth. 
You  'ave  been  absent  without  leave,  an' 
you'll  go  into  cells  for  that ;  an'  you've  come 
back  disgustingly  dressed  an'  most  improper 
in  the  linin'  o'  that  bloomin'  palanquin. 
Instid  of  which  you  laugh.  An'  we  thought 
you  was  dead  all  the  time." 

"  Bhoys,"  said  the  culprit,  still  shaking 
genths  "  whin  I've  done  me  tale  you  may 
cry  if  you  like,  an'  little  Orth'ris  here  can 
thrample  me  inside  out.  Ha'  done  an'  lis- 
ten. Me  performinces  have  been  stupenjus; 
me  luck  has  been  the  blessed  luck  av  the 
British  army — an'  there's  no  better  than 
that.  I  went  out  dhrunk  an'  drinkin'  in  the 
palanquin,  an'  I  have  come  back  a  pink  god. 
Did  any  av  you  go  to  Dearsley  afther  me 
time  was  up  ?  He  was  at  the  bottom  of  ut 
all." 

"Ah  said  so,"  murmured  Leareyd.  "To- 
morrow ah'll  smash  t'face  in  upon  his  heead." 

"Ye  will  not.  Dearsley 's  a  jool  av  a  man. 
Afther  Ortheris  had  put  me  into  the  palan- 
quin an'  the  six  bearer-men  were  gruntin' 


166  MUL  VANE  Y  S  TORIES. 

down  the  road,  I  tuk  thought  to  mock  Dears- 
ley  for  that  fight.  So  I  tould  thim,  '  Go  to 
th'  embankmint,'  and  there,  bein'  most 
amazin'  full,  I  shtuck  me  head  out  av  the 
concern,  an'  passed  compliments  wid  Dears- 
ley.  I  must  ha'  miscalled  him  outrageous, 
for  whin  I  am  that  way  the  power  av  the 
tongue  comes  on  me.  I  can  bare  remimber 
tellin'  him  that  his  mouth  opened  endways 
like  the  mouth  av  a  skate,  which  was  thrue 
afther  Learoyd  had  handled  ut;  an'  I  clear 
remimber  his  takin'  no  manner  nor  matter 
av  offense,  but  givin'  me  a  big  dhrink  av 
beer.  'Twas  the  beer  did  the  thrick,  for  I 
crawled  back  into  the  palanquin,  steppin' 
on  me  right  ear  wid  me  left  foot,  and  thin  I 
slept  like  the  dead.  Wanst  I  half  roused, 
an'  begad  the  noise  in  me  head  was  tremen- 
jus^roarin'  an'  rattlin'  an'  poundin',  such 
as  was  quite  new  to  me.  '  Mother  av  Mercy,' 
thinks  I,  '  fwhat  a  concertina  I  will  have  on 
me  shoulders  whin  I  wakel'  An' wid  that 
I  curls  mesilf  up  to  sleep  before  ut  should 
get  hould  on  me.  Bhoys,that  noise  was  not 
dhrink,  'twas  the  rattle  av  a  thrain  !" 

There  followed  an  impressive  pause. 

"  Yes,  he  had  put  me  on  a  thrain — put  me, 
palanquin  an'  all,  an'  six  black-assassins  av 
his  own  coolies  that  was  in  his  nefarious 
confidence,  on  the  flat  av  a  ballast-thruck, 
and  we  were  rowlin'  on,  bowlin'  along  to 
Benares.  Glory  be  that  I  did  not  wake  up 
thin  an'  introjuce  mesilf  to  the  coolies.     As 


INCAENA  TIOX  OF  KRISHNA  MUL  VANEY.    1 6  T 

I  Avas  savin',  I  slept  for  the  betther  part  av  a 
clay  an'  a  night.  But  reniimber  you,  that 
that  man  Dearsley  had  packed  me  off  on 
wan  av  his  material-thrains  to  Benares,  all 
for  to  make  me  over-stay  me  leave  an'  get 
me  into  the  cells." 

The  explanation  was  an  eminently  ra- 
tional one.  Benares  was  at  least  ten  hours 
by  rail  from  the  cantonments,  and  nothing 
in  the  world  could  have  saved  Mulvaney 
from  arrest  as  a  deserter  had  he  appeared 
there  in  the  apparel  of  his  orgies.  Dearsley 
had  not  forgotten  to  take  revenge.  Learoyd^ 
drawing  back  a  little,  began  to  place  soft 
blows  over  selected  portions  of  Mulvaney's 
body.  His  thoughts  were  away  on  the  em- 
bankment, and  they  meditated  evil  for 
Dearsley.     Mulvaney  continued: 

"Whin  I  was  full  awake  tlie  palanquin 
was  set  down  in  a  street,  I  suspicioned,  for  I 
cud  hear  people  passin'  an'  talkin'.  But  I 
knew  well  I  was  far  from  home.  There  is  a 
queer  smell  upon  our  cantonments — smell 
av  dried  earth  an'  brick-kilns  wid  whiffs  av 
a  cavalry  stable-litter.  This  place  smelled 
marigold  flowers  an'  bad  water,  an'  wanst 
somethin'  alive  came  an'  blew  heavy  with 
his  muzzle  at  the  chink  av  the  shutter.  '  It's 
in  a  village  I  am,'  thinks  I  to  mesilf,  *  an* 
the  parochial  buffalo  is  investigatin'  the 
palanquin.'  But  any  ways  I  had  no  desire 
to  move.  Only  lie  still  Avhin  you're  in  for- 
eign parts  an'  the  standin'  luck  av  the  Brit- 


168  3IUL  VANE Y  S TORIES. 

ish  army  will  carry  ye  through.     That  is  an 
epigram.     I  made  ut. 

"  Thin  a  lot  av  whisperin'  divils  sur- 
rounded the  palanquin.  '  Take  ut  up,'  says 
wan  man.  'But  who'll  pay  us?'  says  an- 
other. *  The  Maharanee's  minister,  av 
coorse,'  sez  the  man.  '  Oho !'  sez  I  to  me- 
silf,  '  I'm  a  quane  in  me  own  right,  wid  a 
minister  to  pay  me  expinses.  I'll  be  an 
emperor  if  I  lie  still  long  enough.  But  this  is 
no  village  I've  struck.'  I  lay  quiet,  but  I 
gummecl  me  right  e3^e  to  a  crack  av  the 
shutters,  an'  I  saw  that  the  whole  street  was 
crammed  wid  palanquins  an'  horses  an'  a 
sprinklin'  av  naked  priests,  all  yellow  pow- 
der an'  tigers'  tails.  But  I  may  tell  you, 
Orth'ris,  an'  you,  Learoyd,  that  av  all  the 
palanquins  ours  was  the  most  imperial  an' 
magnificent.  Now  a  palanquin  means  a  na- 
tive lady  all  the  world  over,  excipt  whin  a 
soldier  avthe  quane  happens  to  be  takin'  a 
ride.  'Women  an'  priests!'  sez  I,  'Your 
father's  son  is  in  the  right  pew  this  time, 
Terence.  There  will  be  proceedin's.'  Six 
black  divils  in  pink  muslin  tuk  up  the  pa- 
lanquin, an'  oh!  but  the  rowlin'  an'  the 
rockin'  made  me  sick.  Thin  we  got  fair 
jammed  among  the  palanquins — not  more 
than  fifty  av  them — an'  we  grated  an' 
bumped  like  Queenstown  potato-smacks  in 
a  runnin'  tide.  I  cud  hear  the  women  gig- 
glin'  an'  squirkin'  in  their  palanquins,  but 
mine  was  the  royal  equipage.     They  made 


INCARNATION  OF  KRISHNA  MULVANEY.   169 

way  for  ut,  an'  begad,  the  pink  muslin  men 
o'  mine  were  howlin',  '  Room  for  tlie  Maha- 
ranee av  Gokral-Seetarnn.'  Do  _you  know 
aught  av  the  lady,  sorr?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  She  is  a  very  estimable 
old  queen  of  the  Central  Indian  States,  and 
they  say  she  is  fat.  How  on  earth  could  she 
go  to  Benares  without  all  the  city  knowing 
her  palanquin  ?" 

"  'Twas  the  eternal  foolishness  av  the  nay- 
gur-men.  They  saw  the  palanquin  lyin' 
loneful  an'  forlornsome,  an'  the  beauty  av 
ut,  after  Dearsley's  men  had  dhropped  ut 
an'  gone  away,  an'  they  gave  ut  the  best 
name  that  occurred  to  thim.  Quite  right 
too.  For  aught  we  know  the  ould  lady  was 
thravelin'  incog. — like  me.  I'm  glad  to  hear 
she's  fat.  I  was  no  light  weight  mesilf,  an' 
me  men  were  mortial  anxious  to  dhrop  me 
under  a  great  big  archway  promiscuously 
ornamented  with  the  most  improper  carv- 
in's  an'  cuttin's  I  iver  saw.  Begad  !  they 
made  me  blush — like  a — like  maharanee." 

"  The  temple  of  Prithi-Devi,"  I  mur- 
mured, remembering  the  monstrous  horrora 
of  that  sculptured  archway  at  Benares. 

"Pretty  Devilskins,  savin'  your  presenf^e, 
sorr.  There  was  nothin'  pretty  about  ut, 
except  me  1  'Twas  all  half  dhark,  an'  whin 
the  coolies  left  they  shut  a  big  black  gate 
behind  av  us,  an'  half  a  company  av  fat  yel- 
low priests  began  pullyhaulin'  the  palan- 
quins into  a  dharker  place  yet — a  big  stone 


170  MULVA NE Y  STORIES. 

hall  full  av  pillars  an'  gods  an'  incense,  an' 
all  manner  of  similar  thruck.  The  gate  dis- 
concerted me,  for  I  perceived  I  wud  have  to 
go  forward  to  get  out,  my  retreat  bein'  cut 
off.  By  the  same  token  a  good  priest  makes 
a  bad  palanquin-coolie.  Begad !  they  nearly 
turned  me  inside  out  draggin'  the  palanquin 
to  the  temple.  Now  the  disposishin  av  the 
forces  inside  was  this  way.  The  Maharanee 
av  Gokral-Seetarun — that  was  me — lay  by 
the  favor  av  Providence  on  the  far  left  flank 
behind  the  dhark  av  a  pillar  carved  with 
elephants's  heads.  The  remainder  av  the 
palanquins  was  in  a  big  half  circle  facing  in 
to  the  biggest,  fattest,  an'  most  amazin'  she- 
god  that  iver  I  dreamed  av.  Her  head  ran  up 
into  the  black  above  us,  an'  her  feet  stuck 
out  in  the  light  av  a  little  fire  av  melted 
butter  that  a  priest  was  feedin'  out  av  a  but- 
ter-dish. Thin  a  man  began  to  sing  an' 
play  on  somethin'  backin  the  dhark,  an"twas 
a  queer  song.  Ut  made  me  hair  lift  on  the 
back  av  me  neck.  Thin  the  doors  av  all 
the  palanquins  slid  back,  an'  the  women 
bundled  out.  I  saw  what  I'll  niver  see  agin. 
'Twas  more  <>lorious  than  transformations  at 
a  pantomime,  for  they  was  in  pink  an'  blue 
an'  silver  an'  red  an  grass-green,  wid  di'- 
monds  an'  imralds  an'  great  red  rubies  all 
over  thim.  But  that  was  the  least  part  av 
the  glory.  Oh,  bhoys,  they  were  more  lovely 
than  the  like  av  any  loveliness  in  Hivin ;  ay, 
their   little  bare  feet  were  better  than  the 


INC  A  ENA  TION  OF  KRISHNA  M  UL  VANEY.   171 

white  hands  av  a  lord's  lady,  an'  their 
mouths  were  like  puckered  roses,  an'  their 
eyes  were  bigger  an'  dharker  than  the  eyes 
av  any  livin'  women  I've  seen.  Ye  may 
laugh,  but  I'm  speakin'  truth.  I  never  saw 
the  like,  an'  never  I  will  again." 

"  Seeing  that  in  all  probablity  you  were 
watching  the  wives  and  daughters  of  most 
of  the  kings  of  India,  the  chances  are  that 
you  won't,"  I  said,  for  it  was  dawning  on  me 
that  Mulvaney  had  stumbled  upon  a  big 
queens'  praying  at  Benares. 

"  I  niver  will,"  he  said,  mournfully.  "  That 
sight  doesn't  come  twist  to  any  man.  It 
made  me  ashamed  to  watch.  A  fat  priest 
knocked  at  me  door.  I  did'nt  think  he'd  have 
the  insolince  to  disturb  the  Maharanee  av 
Gokral-Seetarun,so  Hay  still.  '  Theold cow's 
asleep,'  sez  he  to  another.  '  Let  her  be,'  sez 
that.  '  'Twill  be  long  before  she  has  a  calf!' 
I  might  ha'  known  before  he  spoke  that  all 
a  woman  ]n-ays  for  in  Injia — an'  for  matter  o' 
that  in  England,  too — is  childher.  That 
made  me  more  sorry  I'd  come,  me  bein',  as 
you  well  know,  a  childless  man." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  thinking  of 
his  little  son,  dead  many  years  ago, 

"  They  prayed,  an'  the  butter-fires  blazed 
up  an'  the  incense  turned  everything 
blue,  an'  between  that  an'  the  fires  the 
women  looked  as  tho'  they  were  all  ablaze 
an'  twinklin'.  They  tuk  hold  av  the  she- 
god's  knees,  they  cried  out  an'  they  threw 


172  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

thimsilves  about,  an'  that  world-without- 
end-amen  music  was  dhriving  thim  mad. 
Mother  av  Hivin !  how  they  cried,  an'  the 
old  she-god  grinnin'  above  thera  all  so 
scornful !  The  dhrink  was  dyin'  out  in  me 
fast,  an'  I  was  thinkin'  harder  than  the 
thoughts  wud  go  through  me  head — think- 
in'  how  to  get  out  an'  all  manner  of  nonsinse 
as  well.  The  women  were  rockin'  in  rows, 
their  di'mond  belts  clickin',  an'  the  tears 
runnin'  out  betune  their  hands,  an'  the 
lights  were  goin'  lower  and  dharker.  Thin 
there  was  a  blaze  like  lightnin'  from  the 
roof,  an'  that  showed  me  the  inside  av  the 
palanquin,  an' at  the  end  where  my  foot  was 
stood  the  livin'  spit  an'  image  o'  myself 
worked  on  the  linin'.  This  man  here,  it 
was." 

He  hunted  in  the  folds  of  his  pink  cloak, 
ran  a  hand  under  one,  and  thrust  into  the 
fire-light  a  foot-long  embroidered  present- 
ment of  the  great  god  Krishna,  playing  on 
a  flute.  The  heavy  jowl,  the  staring  eye,  and 
the  blue-black  mustache  of  the  god  made 
up  a  far-off  resemblance  to  Mulvaney. 

"  The  blaze  was  gone  in  a  wink,  but  the 
whole  schame  came  to  me  thin.  I  believe 
I  was  mad,  too.  I  slid  the  off  shutter  open 
an'  rowled  out  into  the  dhark  behind  the 
elephint-head  pillar,  tucked  up  me  trousies 
to  me  knees,  slipped  off  me  boots  an'  tuk  a 
general  hould  av  all  the  pink  linin'  av  the 
palanquin.    Glory  be,  ut  ripped  out  like  a 


INCARXA  TION  OF  KRISHNA  MUL  VANEY.    1 73 

woman's  dhriss  when  you  tread  on  ut  at  a  ser- 
jint's  ball,  and  a  bottle  came  with  nt.  I 
tuk  the  bottle  an'  the  next  minut  I  was  out 
av  the  dhark  av  the  pillar,  the  pink  linin' 
wrapped  round  me  most  graceful,  the  music 
thunderin'  like  kettle-drums,  an'  a  cowld 
draft  blowin'  round  me  bare  legs.  By  this 
hand  that  did  ut,  I  was  Krishna  tootlin'  on 
the  flute — the  god  that  the  rig'mintal  chap- 
lain talks  about.  A  sweet  sight  I  must  ha' 
looked.  I  knew  me  eyes  were  big,  an'  me 
face  was  wax  white,  an'  at  the  worst  I  must 
ha'  looked  like  a  ghost.  But  they  took  me 
for  the  livin'  god.  The  music  stopped,  an' 
the  women  were  dead  dumb,  an'  I  crooked 
me  legs  like  a  shepherd  on  a  china  basin, 
an'  I  did  the  ghost-waggle  with  me  feet  as  I 
had  done  ut  at  the  rig'mintal  theatre  many 
times,  an'  I  slid  acrost  the  width  av  that 
temple  in  front  av  the  shegod  tootlin'  on 
the  beer  bottle." 

"Wot  did  you  toot?"  demanded  Ortheris 
the  practical. 

"  Me?  Oh  !"  Mulvaney  sprung  u}),  suit- 
ing the  action  to  the  word,  and  slidin' 
gravely  in  front  of  us.  a  dilapidated  but  im- 
posing deity  in  the  half  light.     "  I  sung: 

"  '  Only  say 
You'll  be  Mrs.  Brallaghan, 

Don't  say  nay, 
Charmin'  Judy  Callagban.' 

I  didn't  know  me  own  voice  when  I  sung. 


1 74  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

An'  oh  !  'twas  pitiful  to  see  the  women. 
The  darlin's  were  down  on  their  faces. 
Whin  I  passed  the  last  wan  I  cud  see  her 
poor  little  fingers  workin'  one  in  another  as 
if  she  wanted  to  touch  me  feet.  So  I  dhrew 
the  tail  av  this  pink  overcoat  over  her  head 
for  the  greater  honor,  an'  I  slid  into  the 
dhark  on  the  other  side  av  the  temple,  an' 
fetched  up  in  the  arms  av  a  big  fat  priest. 
All  I  wanted  was  to  get  away  clear.  So  I 
tuk  hira  by  his  greasy  throat  an'  shut  the 
speech  out  av  him.  '  Out !'  sez  I.  '  Which 
way,  ye  fat  heathen  ?'  '  Oh  !'  sez  he.  '  Man,' 
sez  I.  'White  man,  soldier  man,  common 
soldier  man.  Where  in  the  name  av  confu- 
sion is  the  back  door?'  The  women  in  the 
temple  were  still  on  their  faces  an'  a  young 
priest  was  holdin'  out  his  arms  above  their 
heads. 

" '  This  way,'  sez  me  fat  friend,  duckin' 
behind  a  big  bull  god  an'  divin'  into  a  pas- 
sage. Thin  I  remimbered  that  I  must  ha' 
made  the  miraculous  reputation  av  that 
temple  for  the  next  fifty  years.  '  Not  so 
fast,'  T  sez,  an'  I  held  out  both  me  hands 
wid  a  wink.  That  ould  thief  smiled  like  a 
father.  I  tuk  him  by  the  back  av  the  neck 
in  case  he  should  be  wishful  to  put  a  knife 
into  me  unbeknownst,  an'  I  ran  him  up  an' 
down  the  passage  twice  to  collect  his  sensi- 
bilities! 'Be  quiet!'  sez  he,  in  English. 
'  Now  you  talk  sense,'  I  sez.  '  Fwhat  '11  you 
give  me  for  the  use  av  that  most  iligant  palan- 


INCARXA TION  OF  KRISHNA  MUL  VAXEY.   175 

qiiin  I  have  no  time  to  take  away  ?'  '  Don't 
tell,'  sez  he.  'Is  ut  like?'  sez  I.  'But 
ye  might  give  me  me  railway  fare.  I'm  far 
from  me  home  an'  I've  done  you  a  service.' 
Bhoys  'tis  a  good  thing  to  be  a  priest.  The 
ould  man  niver  throubled  himself  to  dhraw 
from  a  bank.  As  I  will  prove  to  you  subse- 
quint,  he  philandered  all  round  the  slack  av 
his  clothes  an'  began  dribblin'  ten-rupee 
notes,  old  gold  mohurs,  an'  rupees  into  me 
hand  till  I  could  hould  no  more." 

"  You  lie  !"  said  Ortheris.  "  You're  mad 
or  sunstrook.  A  native  don't  give  coin  un- 
less you  cut  it  out  o'  'im.     'Tain't  nature." 

"  Thin  me  lie  an'  me  sunstroke  is  con- 
cealed under  that  lump  av  sod  yonder,"  re- 
torted Mulvaney  unruffled,  nodding  across 
the  scrub.  "  An'  there's  a  dale  more  in  nat- 
ure than  your  squidgy  little  legs  have  iver 
taken  you  to,  Orth'ris,  me  son.  Four  hun- 
dred and  thirty-four  rupees  by  me  reckon- 
in',  an'  a  big  fat  gold  necklace  that  I  took 
from  him  as  a  remimbrancer,  was  our  share 
in  that  business." 

"  An'  'e  give  it  you  for  love  ?"  said  Or- 
theris. 

"  We  were  alone  in  that  passage.  May  be 
I  was  a  trifle  too  pressin',  but  considher 
fwhat  I  had  done  for  the  good  av  the  temple 
an'  the  iverlastin'  joy  av  those  women. 
'Twas  cheap  at  the  price.  I  wud  ha'  taken 
more  if  I  cud  ha'  found  ut.  I  turned  the 
ould  man  upside  down  at  the  last,  but  he 


176  MULVASEY  STORIES. 

was  milked  dhry.  Thin  he  opened  a  door 
in  another  passage  an'  I  found  mysilf  up  to 
me  knees  in  Benares  river-water,  an'  bad 
smellin'  ut  is.  More  by  token  I  had  come 
out  on  the  river-line  close  to  a  cracklin' 
corpse.  This  was  in  the  heart  av  the  night, 
for  I  had  been  four  hours  in  tlie  temple. 
There  was  a  crowd  av  boats  tied  uj),  so  I  tuk 
wan  an'  wint  across  the  river.  Thin  I  came 
home  acrost  country,  lyin'  up  by  day." 

"  How  on  earth  did  you  manage?"  I  said. 

"  How  did  Sir  Frederick  Roberts  get  from 
Cabul  to  Candahar?  He  marched  an'  he 
niver  tould  how  near  he  was  to  breakin' 
down.  That's  why  he  is  fwhat  he  is.  An' 
now — "  Mulvaney  yawned  portentously. 
"Now  I  will  go  an'  give  mesilf  up  for  ab- 
since  widout  leave.  It's  eight-an'-twinty 
days,  an'  the  rough  end  of  the  colonel's 
tongue  in  orderly-room  any  way  you  look 
at  ut.     But  'tis  cheap  at  the  price." 

"  Mulvaney,"  said  I,  softly,  "  if  there 
happens  to  be  any  sort  of  excuse  that  the 
colonel  can  in  any  way  accept,  I  have  a 
notion  that  you'll  get  nothing  more  than 
the  dressing-down.  The  new  recruits  are  in, 
and—" 

"  Not  a  word  more,  sorr.  Is  ut  excuses 
the  ould  man  wants  ?  'Tis  not  my  way, 
but  he  shall  have  thim.  I'll  tell  him  I  was 
engaged  in  financial  operations  connected 
wid  a  church,"  and  he  flapped  his  way  to 
cantonments  and  the  cells,  singing  lustily  : 


INCAENA  TIO  N  OF  KRISHNA  M  UL  VANEY,    177 

"  So  they  sent  a  corp'ril's  file, 
And  they  put  me  in  the  gyard-room 
For  conduck  unbecomin'  of  a  soldier." 

And  when  he  was  lost  in  the  haze  oi  the 
moonlight  we  could  hear  the  refrain  : 

"Bang  upon  the  big  drum,  bash  upon  the  cymbals, 
As  we  go  marchin'  along,  boys  oh  ! 
For  although  in  this  campaign 
There's  no  whisky  nor  champagne, 
We'll  keep  our  spirits  goin   with  a  song,  boys  I" 

Therewith  he  surrendered  himself  to  the 
joyful  and  almost  weeping  guard,  and  was 
made  much  of  by  his  fellows.  But  to  the 
colonel  he  said  he  had  been  smitten  with 
sunstroke  and  had  lain  insensible  on  a  vil- 
lager's cot  for  untold  hours,  and  between 
laughter  and  good  will  the  affair  was 
smoothed  over,  so  that  he  could  next  day 
teach  the  new  recruits  how  to  "Fear  God, 
Honor  the  Queen,  Shoot  Straight,  and  Keep 
Clean." 

There  is  no  further  space  to  record  the 
digging  up  of  the  spoils,  or  the  triumphal 
visit  of  the  three  to  Dearsley,  who  feared  for 
his  life,  but  was  most  royally  treated  instead, 
and  under  that  influence  told  how  the  pa- 
lanquin had  come  into  his  possession.  But 
that  is  another  story. 


12 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH 
SHADD. 

I. 

All  day  I  had  followed  at  the  heels  of  a 
pursuing  army,  engaged  on  one  of  the  finest 
battles  that  ever  carap  of  exercise  beheld. 
Thirty  thousand  troops  had  by  the  wisdom 
of  the  go)'ernment  of  India  been  turned 
loose  over  a  few  thousand  square  miles  of 
country  to  practice  in  peace  what  they 
would  never  attempt  in  war.  Consequently 
cavalry  charged  unshaken  infantry  at  the 
trot ;  infantry  captured  artillery  by  frontal 
attacks,  delivered  in  line  of  quarter  col- 
umns ;  and  mounted  infantry  skirmished 
up  to  the  wheels  of  an  armored  train,  which 
carried  nothing  more  deadly  than  a  twenty- 
five  pounder  Armstrong,  two  Nordenfeldts, 
and  a  few  score  volunteers,  all  cased  in 
three-eighths-inch  boiler-plate.  Yet  it  was 
a  very  life-like  camp.  Operations  did  not 
cease  at  sundown;  nobody  knew  the  coun- 
try, and  nobody  was  to  spare  man  or  horse. 
There  was  unending  cavalry  scouting,  and 
almost  unending  forced  work  over  broken 
ground. 

The  Army  of  the  South  had  finally 
pierced  the  centre  of  the  Army  of  the  North, 
(178) 


THE  COURTING  OF  DIXAII  SHADD.      179 

and  AA'as  pouring  through  the  gap,  hot  foot, 
to  capture  a  city  of  strategic  importance. 
Its  front  extended  fanwise,  the  sticks  being 
represented  by  regiments  strung  out  along 
the  line  of  route  backward  to  the  divisional 
transport  columns,  and  all  the  lumber  that 
trails  behind  an  army  on  the  move.  On  its 
right  the  broken  left  of  the  Army  of  the 
North  was  flying  in  mass,  chased  by  the 
Southern  horse  and  hammered  by  the 
Southern  guns,  till  these  had  been  pushed 
far  beyond  the  limits  of  their  last  support. 
Then  the  flying  Army  of  the  North  sat 
down  to  rest,  while  the  elated  commandant 
of  the  pursuing  force  telegraphed  that  he 
held  it  in  check  and  observation. 

Unluckily  he  did  not  observe  that  three 
miles  to  his  right  flank  a  flying  column  of 
Northern  horse,  with  a  detachment  of 
Ghoorkhas  and  British  troops,  had  been 
pushed  round  as  fast  as  the  falling  light 
allowed,  to  cut  across  the  entire  rear  of  the 
Southern  Army,  to  break,  as  it  were,  all  the 
ribs  of  the  fan  where  they  converged,  by 
striking  at  the  transport  reserve,  ammuni- 
tion, and  artillery  supplies.  Their  instruc- 
tions were  to  go  in,  avoiding  a  few  scouts 
who  might  not  have  been  drawn  off' 
by  the  pursuit,  and  create  sufflcient  excite- 
ment to  impress  the  Southern  Army  with 
the  wisdom  of  guarding  their  own  flank  and 
rear  before  they  captured  cities.  It  was  a 
pretty  maneuver,  neatly  carried  out. 


180  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

Speaking  for  the  second  division  of  the 
Southern  Army,  our  first  intimation  of  it 
was  at  twilight,  when  the  artillery  were  la- 
boring in  deep  sand,  most  of  the  escort  were 
trying  to  help  them  out,  and  the  main  body 
of  the  infantry  had  gone  on.  A  Noah's  ark 
of  elephants,  camels,  and  the  mixed  me- 
nagerie of  an  Indian  transport  train  bub- 
bled and  squealed  behind  the  guns,  wher? 
there  appeared  from  nowhere  in  particular 
British  infantry  to  the  extent  of  three  com- 
panies, who  sprung  to  the  heads  of  the  gun 
horses,  and  brought  all  to  a  stand-still  amid 
oaths  and  cheers. 

'•How's  that,  umpire?"  said  the  major 
commanding  the  attack,  and  with  one  voice 
the  drivers  and  limber  gunners  answered, 
"  Hout!"  while  the  colonel  of  artillery  sput- 
tered. 

"All  your  scouts  are  charging  our  main 
body,"  said  the  mnjor.  "  Your  flanks  are 
unprotected  for  two  miles.  I  think  we've 
broken  the  back  of  this  division.  And  listen  ! 
there  go  the  Ghoorkhas!" 

A  weak  fire  broke  from  the  rear  guard 
more  than  a  mile  away,  and  was  answered 
by  cheerful  bowlings.  The  Ghoorkhas,  who 
should  have  swung  clear  of  the  second  di- 
vision, had  stepped  on  its  tail  in  the  dark, 
but,  drawing  off,  hastened  to  reach  the  next 
line,  which  lay  almost  parallel  to  us,  five  or 
six  miles  away. 

Our  column  swayed  and   surged  irreso- 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     181 

lutely — three  batteries,  the  divisional  am- 
munition reserve,  the  baggage,  and  a  section 
of  hospital  and  bearer  corps.  The  com- 
mandant ruefully  promised  to  report  him- 
self "cut  up  "  to  the  nearest  umpire,  and 
commending  his  cavalry  and  all  other  cav- 
alry to  the  care  of  Eblis,  toiled  on  to  resume 
touch  with  the  rest  of  the  division. 

"  We'll  bivouac  here  to-night,"  said  the 
major.  "  I  have  a  notion  that  the  Ghoork- 
has  will  get  caught.  They  may  want  us  to 
reform  on.  Stand  easy  till  the  transport 
gets  away." 

A  hand  caught  my  beast's  bridle  and  led 
him  out  of  the  choking  dust;  a  larger  hand 
deftly  canted  me  out  of  the  saddle,  and  two 
of  the  hugest  hands  in  the  world  received 
me  sliding.  Pleasant  is  the  lot  of  the  spe- 
cial correspondent  who  falls  into  such  hands 
as  those  of  Privates  Mulvaney,  Ortheris  and 
Learoyd. 

"  An'  that's  all  right,"  said  the  Irishman, 
calml3%  "  We  thought  we'd  find  you  some- 
wheres  here  by.  Is  there  anything  of  yours 
in  the  transport?     Orth'ris  '11  fetch  ut  out." 

Ortheris  did  "  fetch  ut  out "  from  under 
the  trunk  of  an  elephant,  in  the  shape  of 
a  servant  and  an  animal,  both  laden  with 
medical  comforts.  The  little  man's  eyes 
sparkled. 

"  If  the  brutil  an'  licentious  soldiery  av 
these  parts  gets  sight  av  the  thruck,"  said 
Mulvaney,  making  practiced  investigation, 


182  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

"they'll  loot  ev'rything.  They're  bein' fed 
on  iron-filin's  an'  dog  biscuit  these  days,  but 
glory's  no  compensation  for  a  bellyache. 
Praise  be,  we're  here  to  protect  you,  sorr. 
Beer,  sausage,  bread  (soft,  an'  that's  a  cur'- 
osity),  soup  in  a  tin  ;  whisky  by  the  smell 
av  ut,  an'  fowls.  Mother  av  Moses,  but  ye 
take  the  field  like  a  confectioner!  'Tis 
scand'lus." 

"  'Ere's  a  orficer,"  said  Ortheris,  signifi- 
cantly. '^  When  the  sarjint's  done  lushin', 
the  privit  may  clean  the  pot." 

1  bundled  several  things  into  Mulvaney's 
haversack  before  the  major's  hand  fell  on  my 
shoulder,  and  he  said,  tenderly :  "  Requisi- 
tioned for  the  queen's  service.  Wolseley 
was  quite  wrong  about  special  correspond- 
ents. They  are  the  best  friends  of  the  sol- 
dier. Come  an'  take  pot-luck  with  us  to- 
night." 

And  so  it  happened  amid  laughter  and 
shoutings  that  my  well-considered  commis- 
sariat melted  away  to  reappear  on  the  mess- 
table,  which  was  a  water-proof  sheet  spread 
on  the  ground.  The  flying  column  had  taken 
three  days'  rations  with  it,  and  there  be  few 
things  nastier  than  government  rations — es- 
pecially when  government  is  experimenting 
with  German  toys.  Erbswurst,  tinned  beef, 
of  surpassing  tinniness,  compressed  vegeta- 
bles, and  meat  biscuits  may  be  nourishing, 
but  what  Thomas  Atkins  wants  is  bulk  in  his 
inside.     The  major,  assisted  by  his  brother 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SIIADD.     183 

officers,  purchased  goats  for  the  camp,  and 
so  made  the  experiment  of  no  effect.  Long 
before  the  fatigue-party  sent  to  collect 
brushwood  had  returned  the  men  were  set- 
tled down  by  their  valises,  kettles  and  pots 
had  appeared  from  the  surrounding  country, 
and  were  dangling  over  fires  as  the  kid  and 
the  compressed  vegetables  bubbled  together ; 
then  a  cheerful  clinking  of  mess  tins,  out- 
rageous demands  for  "  a  little  more  stuffin'' 
with  that  there  liver  wing,"  and  gust  on  gust 
of  chaff  as  pointed  as  a  bayonet  and  as  deli- 
cate as  a  gun-butt. 

"  The  boys  are  in  good  temper,"  said  the 
major.  "They'll  be  singing  presently.  Well, 
a  night  like  this  is  enough  to  keep  them 
happy." 

Over  our  heads  burned  the  wonderful 
Indian  stars,  which  are  not  all  pricked  in  on 
one  plane,  but  preserving  an  orderly  per- 
spective, draw  the  eye  through  the  velvet 
darkness  of  the  void  up  to  the  barred  doors 
of  heaven  itself.  The  earth  was  a  gray 
shadow  more  unreal  than  the  sky.  We 
could  hear  her  breathing  lightl}''  in  the 
pauses  between  the  howling  of  the  jackals, 
the  movement  of  the  wind  in  the  tamarisks, 
and  the  fitful  mutter  of  musketry-fire  leagues 
away  to  the  left.  A  native  woman  in  some 
unseen  hut  began  to  sing,  the  mail  train 
thundered  past  on  its  way  to  Delhi,  and  a 
roosting  crow  cawed  drowsily.  Then  there 
was  a  belt-loosening  silence  about  the  fires,. 


184  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

and  the  even  breathing  of  the  crowded  earth 
took  up  tlie  stor}\ 

The  men,  full  fed,  turned  to  tobacco  and 
song — their  officers  with  them.  Happy  is 
the  subaltern  who  can  win  the  approval  of 
the  musical  critics  in  his  regiment,  and  is 
honored  among  the  more  intricate  step 
dancers.  By  him,  as  by  him  who  plays 
cricket  craftily,  will  Thomas  Atkins  stand  in 
time  of  need  when  he  will  let  a  better  officer 
go  on  alone.  The  ruined  tombs  of  forgotten 
Mussulman  saints  heard  the  ballad  of 
"Agra  Town,"  "The  Buffalo  Battery," 
"  Marching  to  Kabul,"  "  The  Long,  Long  In- 
dian Day,"  "The  Place  Where  the  Punka 
Coolie  Died,"  and  that  crashing  chorus 
which  announces 

"  Youth's  daring  spirit,  manhood's  fire, 
Finn  hand  and  eagle  eye 
Must  he  acquire  who  would  aspire 
To  see  the  gray  boar  die." 

To-day,  of  all  those  jovial  thieves  who  ap- 
propriated my  commissariat,  and  lay  and 
laughed  round  that  water-proof  sheet,  not 
one  remains.  They  went  to  camps  that 
were  not  of  exercise  and  battles  without  um- 
pires. Burma,  the  Soudan,  and  the  frontier 
fever  and  fight  took  them  in  their  time. 

I  drifted  across  to  the  men's  fires  in  search 
of  Mulvaney,  whom  I  found  strategically 
greasing  his  feet  by  the  blaze.     There   is 


THE  COURII^G  OF  DJNAH  SHADD.      185 

nothing  particularly  lovely  in  the  sight  ot 
a  private  thus  engaged  after  a  long  day's 
march,  but  when  you  reflect  on  the  ex- 
act portion  of  the  "might,  majesty,  dominion, 
and  power"  of  the  British  Empire  that 
stands  on  those  feet,  you  take  an  interest  in 
the  proceedings. 

"There's  a  blister — bad  luck  to  ut! — on 
me  heel,"  said  Mulvaney.  "  I  can't  touch 
it.     Prick  ut  out,  little  man." 

Ortheris  produced  his  housewife,  eased 
the  trouble  with  a  needle,  stabbed  Mulvaney 
in  the  calf  with  the  same  weapon,  and  was 
incontinently  kicked  into  the  fire. 

"  I've  bruk  the  best  av  me  toes  over  you, 
ye  grinnin'  child  av  disruption !"  said  Mul- 
vaney, sitting  cross-legged  and  nursing  his 
feet;  then,  seeing  me:  "Oh,  ut's  you,  sorr  I 
Be  welkim,  an'  take  that  maraudin  scutts' 
place.  Jock,  hold  him  down  on  the  cind- 
hers  for  a  bit." 

But  Ortheris  escaped  and  went  elsewhere 
as  I  took  possession  of  the  hollow  he  had 
scraped  for  himself  and  lined  with  his  great- 
coat. Learoyd,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fire,  grinned  affably,  and  in  a  minute  fell 
asleep. 

"  There's  the  height  av  politeness  for 
you,"  said  Mulvaney,  lighting  his  pipe  with 
a  flaming  branch.  "  But  Jock's  eaten  half  a 
box  av  your  sardines  at  wan  gulp,  an'  I 
think  the  tin  too.  What's  the  best  wid 
you,  sorr ;  an'  how  did  you  happen  to  be 


186  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

on  the  losin'  side  this  day  Avhen  Ave  cap- 
tured you?" 

"  The  Army  of  the  South  is  winning  all 
along  the  line,"  I  said. 

''  Then  that  line's  the  hangman's  rope, 
savin'  your  presence.  You'll  learn  to-mor- 
row how  we  rethreated  to  dhraw  thim  on 
before  we  made  thim  trouble,  an'  that's  what 
a  woman  does.  By  the  same  tokin,  we'll  be 
attacked  before  the  dawnin',  an'  ut  would 
be  betther  not  to  slip  your  boots.  How  do 
I  know  that?  By  the  light  av  pure  reason. 
Here  are  three  companies  av  us  ever  so  far 
inside  av  the  enemy's  flank,  an'  a  crowd  av 
roarin',  t'arin',  an'  squealin'  cavalry  gone  on 
just  to  turn  out  the  whole  nest  av  thim. 
Av  course  the  enemy  will  pursue  by  bri- 
gades like  as  not,  an'  then  we'll  have  to  run 
for  ut.  Mark  me  words.  I  am  av  the  opin- 
ion av  Polonius  whin  he  said  :  '  Don't  fight 
wid  ivry  scutt  for  the  pure  joy  av  fightin'; 
but  if  you  do,  knock  the  nose  av  him  first 
an'  frequint!'  We  ought  to  ha'  gone  on  an' 
helped  the  Ghoorkhas." 

"But  what  do  you  know  about  Polo- 
nius ?"  I  demanded.  This  was  a  new  side 
of  Mulvaney's  character. 

''  All  that  Shakespeare  ever  wrote,  an'  a 
dale  more  than  the  gallery  shouted,"  said 
the  man  of  war,  carefully  lacing  his  boots. 
"  Did  I  not  tell  you  av  Silver's  Theatre  in 
Dublin  whin  I  was  j'ounger  than  I  am  now 
an'  a  patron  av  the  drama  ?    Ould  Silver 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.      187 

wud  never  pay  actor,  man  or  woman,  their 
just  dues,  an'  by  consequence  his  comp'- 
nies  was  collapsible  at  the  last  minut'.  Then 
the  bhoys  would  clamor  to  take  a  part,  an' 
oft  as  not  ould  Silver  made  thim  pay  for  the 
fun.  Faith,  I've  seen  Hamlut  played  wid 
a  new  black  eye,  an'  the  queen  as  full  as  a 
cornucopia.  I  remember  wanst  Hogin,that 
'listed  in  the  Black  Tyrone  an'  was  shot  in 
South  Africa,  he  sejuced  ould  Silver  into 
givin'  him  Hamlut's  part  instid  av  me, 
that  had  a  fine  fancy  for  rhetoric  in  those 
days.  Av  course  I  wint  into  the  gallery  an' 
began  to  fill  the  pit  wid  other  people's  hats, 
an'  I  passed  the  time  av  day  to  Hogin  walk- 
in'  through  Denmark  like  a  hamstrung  mule 
wid  a  pall  on  his  back.  '  Hamlut,'  sez  I, 
'there^s  a  hole  in  your  heel.  Pull  up  your 
shtockins  Hamlut,'  sez  1.  '  Hamlut,  Ham- 
lut, for  the  luv  av  decincy  dhrop  that  skull 
and  pull  up  your  shtockins.'  The  whole 
house  begun  to  tell  him  that.  He  stopped 
hissoliloquishms  mid  between.  '  My  shtock- 
ins may  be  comin'  down  or  they  may  not,' 
sez  he,  screwin'  his  eye  into  the  gallery,  for 
well  he  knew  who  I  was ;  '  but  afther  the 
performince  is  over  me  an'  the  Ghost  '*il 
trample  the  guts  out  av  you,  Terence,  wid 
your  ass's  bray.'  An'  that's  how  I  come  to 
know  about  Hamlut.  Eyah  !  Those  days, 
those  days !  Did  you  iver  have  onendin' 
developmint  an'  nothin'  to  pay  for  it  in. 
your  life,  sor?" 


188  MULVANEi  STORIES. 

"  Never  without  having  to  pay,"  I  said. 

"  That's  thrue.  'Tis  mane,  whin  you  con- 
sidlier  on  ut ;  but  ut's  the  same  wid  horse 
or  fut.  A  headache  if  you  dhrink,  an*  a 
bellyache  if  you  eat  too  much,  an'  a  heart- 
ache to  kape  it  all  down.  Faith,  the  beast 
only  gets  the  colic,  an'  he's  the  lucky  man." 

He  dropped  his  head  and  stared  into  the 
fire,  fingering  his  mustache  the  while.  From 
the  far  side  of  the  bivouac  the  voice  of  Cor- 
bet-Nolan, senior  subaltern  of  B  Company, 
uplifted  itself  in  an  ancient  and  much-ap- 
preciated song  of  sentiment,  the  men  moan- 
ing melodiously  behind  him : 

"  The  north  wind  blew  coldly,  she  drooped  from  that 
hour, 
My  own  little  Kathleen,  my  sweet  little  Kathleen, 
Kathleen,  my  Kathleen,  Kathleen  O' Moore  !" 

with  forty-five  o's  in  the  last  word.  Even  at 
that  distance  you  might  have  cut  the  soft 
South  Irish  accent  with  a  shovel. 

"  For  all  we  take  we  must  pay ;  but  the 
price  is  cruel  high,"  murmured  Mulvaney 
when  the  chorus  had  ceased. 

"What's  the  trouble?"  I  said,  gently,  for 
I  knew  that  he  was  a  man  of  an  inextin- 
guishable sorrow. 

"  Hear  now,"  said  he.  "  Ye  know  what 
I  am  now.  I  know  what  I  mint  to  be  at  the 
beginnin'  av  me  service.  I've  tould  you 
time  an'  again,  an'  what  I  have  not,  Dinah 


THE  COVRTIXG  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     189 

Shadd  has.  An'  what  am  I?  Oh,  Mary, 
Mother  av  Hivin !  an  ould  dhrunken,  un- 
trustable  baste  av  a  privit  that  has  seen  the 
rig'mint  change  out  from  colonel  to  drum- 
mer-boy, not  wanst  er  twicet,  but  scores  av 
times!  Ay,  scores!  An'  me  not  so  near 
gettin'  promotion  as  in  the  furst.  An'  me 
livin'  on  an'  kapin'  clear  o'  Clink  not  by  me 
own  good  conduck,  but  by  the  kindness  av 
some  orficer — bhoy  young  enough  to  be  son 
to  me!  Do  I  not  know  ut?  Can  I  not  tell 
whin  I'm  passed  over  at  p'rade,  tho'  I'm 
rockin'  full  av  liquor  an'  ready  to  fall  all  in 
wan  piece,  such  as  even  a  suckin'  child 
might  see,  bekaze,  '  Oh,  'tis  only  ould  Mul- 
vaney  1'  An'  whin  I'm  let  off  in  the  ord'ly- 
room,  through  some  thrick  av  the  tongue 
an'  a  ready  answer  an' the  ould  man's  mercy, 
is  ut  smilin' I  feel  whin  I  fall  away  an'  go 
back  to  Dinah  Shadd,  thryin'  to  carry  ut  all 
off  as  a  joke?  Not  I.  'Tis  hell  to  me — 
dumb  hell  through  ut  all ;  an'  the  next  time 
whin  the  fit  comes  I  will  be  as  bad  again. 
Good  cause  the  rig'mint  has  to  know  me 
for  the  best  soldier  in  ut.  Better  cause  have 
I  to  know  mesilf  for  the  worst  man.  I'm 
only  fit  to  tache  the  new  drafts  what  I'll 
never  learn  mesilf;  an'  I  am  sure  as  tho'  I 
heard  ut,  that  the  minut  wan  av  these  pink- 
eyed  recruits  gets  away  from  me  '  Mind  ye, 
now,'  an'  '  Listen  to  this,  Jim,  bhoy,'  sure 
I  am  that  the  serjint  houlds  me  up  to  him 
for  a  warnin'.     So  I  tache,  as  they  say  at 


190  MUL  VANE  Y  STORIES. 

muskeiry  instruction,  by  direct  an'  ricochet 
fire.  Lord  be  good  to  me  !  for  I  have  stud 
some  trouble." 

"  Lie  down  and  go  to  sleep,"  said  I,  not 
being  able  to  comfort  or  advise.  "  You're 
the  best  man  in  the  regiment,  and,  next  to 
Ortheris,  the  biggest  fool.  Lie  down,  and 
wait  till  we're  attacked.  What  force  will 
they  turn  out?     Guns,  think  you?" 

"  Thry  that  wid  your  lorrds,  an'  ladies, 
twistin'  an'  turnin'  the  talk,  tho'  you  mint 
ut  well.  Ye  cud  say  nothin'  to  help  me ;  an' 
yet  ye  niver  knew  what  cause  I  had  to  be 
what  I  am." 

'*  Begin  at  the  beginning  and  go  on  to  the 
end,"  I  said,  royally.  "  But  rake  up  the  fire 
a  bit  first."  I  passed  Ortheris's  bayonet  for 
a  poker. 

"  That  shows  how  little  you  know  what  to 
do,"  said  Mulvaney,  putting  it  aside.  "Fire 
takes  all  the  heart  out  av  the  steel,  an'  the 
next  time,  may  be,  that  our  little  man  is 
fightin'  for  his  life  his  brad-awl  '11  break,  an' 
so  you'll  'ave  killed  him,  manin'  no  more 
than  to  kape  yourself  warm.  'Tis  a  recruitie's 
thrick  that.     Pass  the  cl'anin'-rod,  sorr." 

I  snuggled  down,  abashed,  and  after  an 
interval  the  low,  even  voice  of  Mulvaney 
began. 

II. 

"  Did  I  ever  tell  you  how  Dinah  Shadd 
came  to  be  wife  av  mine  ?" 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     191 

I  dissembled  a  burning  anxiety  that  I  had 
felt  for  some  months— ever  since  Dinah 
Shadd,  the  strong,  the  patient,  and  the  in- 
finitely tender,  had,  of  her  own  good  love 
and  free-will,  washed  a  shirt  for  me,  moving 
in  a  barren  land  where  washing  was  not. 

"  I  can't  remember,"  I  said,  casually. 
"  Was  it  before  or  after  you  made  love  to 
Annie  Bragin,  and  got  no  satisfaction  ?" 

The  story  of  Annie  Bragin  is  written  in 
another  place.  It  is  one  of  the  many  epi- 
sodes in  Mulvaney's  checkered  career. 

"  Before — before — long  before  was  that 
business  av  Annie  Bragin  an'  the  corp'ril's 
ghost.  Never  woman  was  the  worse  for  me 
whin  I  had  married  Dinah.  There's  a  time 
for  all  things,  an'  I  know  how  to  kape  all 
things  in  place — barrin'  the  dhrink,  that 
kapes  me  in  me  place,  wicl  no  hope  av  com- 
in'  to  be  aught  else." 

"  Begin  at  the  beginning,"  I  insisted, 
"  Mrs  Mulvaney  told  me  that  you  married 
her  when  you  were  quartered  in  Krab  Bok- 
har  barracks." 

"  An'  the  same  is  a  cess-pit,"  said  Mul- 
vaney, piously.  "  She  spoke  thrue,  did 
Dinah.  'Twas  this  way.  Talkin'  av  that, 
have  ye  iver  fallen  in  love,  sorr?" 

I  preserved  the  silence  of  the  damned. 
Mulvaney  continued : 

"  Thin  I  will  assume  that  ye  have  not.  I 
did.  In  the  days  av  me  youth,  as  I  have 
more  than  wanst  tould  you,  I  was  a  man 


192  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

that  filled  the  eye  an'  delighted  the  sowl  av 
women.  Niver  man  was  hated  as  I  have 
been.  Niver  man  was  loved  as  I — no,  not 
within  half  a  day's  march  av  ut.  For 
the  first  five  years  av  me  service,  when  I 
was  what  I  wud  give  me  sowl  to  be  now,  I 
tuk  whatever  was  within  me  reach  an'  di- 
gested ut,  an'  that's  more  than  most  men 
can  say.  Dhrink  I  tuk,  an'  ut  did  me  no 
harm.  By  the  hollow  av  hivin,  I  could  play 
wid  four  women  at  wanst,  an'  kape  them 
from  findin'  out  anything  about  the  other 
three,  an'  smile  like  a  full-blown  marigold 
through  ut  all.  Dick  Coulhan,  of  the  battery 
we'll  have  down  on  us  to-night,  could  dhrive 
his  team  no  better  than  I  mine;  an'  I  hild 
the  worse  cattle.  An'  so  I  lived  an'  so  I 
was  happy,  till  afther  that  business  wid 
Annie  Bragin — she  that  turned  me  off  as 
cool  as  a  meat-safe,  an'  taught  where  I  stud 
in  the  mind  av  an  honest  woman.  'Twas  no 
sweet  dose  to  take. 

"  Afther  that  I  sickened  awhile,  an'  tuk 
thought  to  me  rig'mintal  work,  conceiting 
mesilf  I  would  study  an'  be  a  sarjint  an'  a 
major-jineral  twinty  minutes  afther  that.  But 
on  top  o'  me  ambitiousness  there  was  an' 
empty  place  in  me  sowl,  an'  me  own  opinion 
av  mesilf  cud  not  fill  ut.  Sez  I  to  mesilf: 
'  Terence,  you're  a  great  man  an' the  best  set 
up  in  the  rig'mint.  Go  on  an'  get  promotion.' 
Sez  mesilf  to  me,  '  What  for?'  Sez  I  to  me- 
silf, '  For  the  glory  av  ut.'   Sez  mesilf  to  me, 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.      193 

'  AVill  that  fill  these  two  strong  arrunis  av 
yours,  Terence  ?'  '  Go  to  the  divil,'  sez  I  to 
mesilf.  '  Go  to  the  married  lines,'  sez  mesilf 
to  me.  '  'Tis  the  same  thing,'  sez  I  to  mesilf. 
'  Av  you're  the  same  man,  ut  is,'  sez  mesilf 
to  me.  An'  wid  that  I  eonsidhered  on  ut  a 
long  while.  Did  you  iver  feel  that  way, 
sorr?" 

I  snored  gentl}^  knowing  that  if  Mulvaney 
were  uninterrupted  he  would  go  on.  The 
clamor  from  the  bivouac  fires  beat  up  to  the 
stars  as  the  rival  singers  of  the  companies 
were  pitted  against  each  other, 

"So,  I  felt  that  way,  an'  bad  time  ut  was. 
Wanst,  bein'  a  fool,  I  went  into  the  married 
lines,  more  for  the  sake  av  spakin'  to  our 
ould  color-sarjint  Shadd  than  for  any  thruck 
wid  wimmen-folk.  I  was  a  corp'ril  tlien — 
rejuced  aftherwards;  but  a  corp'ril  then. 
I've  got  a  photograft  av  mesilf  to  prove  ut. 
'  You'll  take  a  cup  av  tay  wid  us  ?'  sez  he. 
'I  will  that,'  I  sez;  'tho'  tay  is  not  me 
divarsion.'  '  'Twud  be  better  for  you  if  ut 
were,'  sez  ould  Mother  Shadd.  An'  she  had 
ought  to  know,  for  Shadd,  in  the  ind  av  his 
service,  dhrank  bung- full  each  night. 

"  Wid  that  I  tuk  off  me  gloves — there  was 
pipe-clay  in  thim  so  that  they  stud  alone — 
an'  pulled  up  me  chair,  lookin'  at  the  china 
ornamints  an'  bits  av  things  in  the  Shadds* 
quarters.  They  were  thing?  that  belonged 
to  a  woman,  an'  no  camp  kit,  here  to-day 
an'  dishipated  next.  'You're  comfortable 
13 


194  MULVASEY  STORIES. 

in  this  place,  serjint,' sez  I.  ''Tis  the  wife 
that  did  ut,  boy,'  sez  he,  pointin'  the  stem 
av  his  pipe  to  ould  Mother  Shadd,  an'  she 
smacked  the  top  av  his  bald  head  upon  the 
compliment.  'That  manes  you  want 
money,'  sez  she. 

"An'  thin — an' thin  whin  the  kettle  was 
to  be  filled,  Dinah  came  in — my  Dinah — 
her  sleeves  rowled  up  to  the  elbow,  an'  her 
hair  in  a  gowlden  glory  over  her  forehead, 
the  big  blue  eyes  beneath  twinklin'  like 
stars  on  a  frosty  night,  an'  the  tread  of  her 
two  feet  lighter  than  waste  paper  from  the 
colonel's  basket  in  ord'ly-room  when  ut's 
emptied.  Bein'  but  a  shlip  av  a  girl,  she 
went  pink  at  seein'  me,  an'  I  twisted  me 
mustache  an'  looked  at  a  picture  forninst  the 
wall.  Never  show  a  woman  that  ye  care 
the  snap  av  a  finger  for  her,  an'  begad  she'll 
come  bleatin'  to  your  boot-heels." 

"I  suppose  that's  why  you  followed 
Annie  Bragin  till  everybody  in  the  married 
quarters  laughed  at  you,"  said  I,  remember- 
ing that  unhallowed  wooing,  and  casting  off 
the  disguise  of  drowsiness. 

"  I'm  layin'  down  the  gin'ral  theory  av 
the  attack,"  said  Mulvaney,  driving  his  foot 
into  the  dying  fire.  ''If  you  read  the  'Sol- 
dier's Pocket-Book,' which  never  any  soldier 
reads,  you'll  see  that  there  are  exceptions. 
When  Dinah  was  out  av  the  door  (an'  'twas 
as  tho'  the  sunlight  had  gone  too),  '  Mother 
av  Hiven,  serjint !'  sez  I,  '  but  is  that  your 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     195 

daughter?'  'I've  believed  that  way  these 
eighteen  years,'  sez  oiild  Shadd,  his  eyes 
twinklin'.  '  But  Mrs.  Shadd  has  her  own 
opinion,  like  ivry  other  woman.'  '  'Tis  wid 
yours  this  time,  for  a  mericle,'  sez  Mother 
Shadd.  '  Then  why,  in  the  name  av  for- 
tune, did  I  never  see  her  before?'  sez  I. 
'  Bekase  you've  been  thraipsin'  round  wid 
the  married  women  these  three  years  past. 
She  was  a  bit  av  a  child  till  last  year,  an' 
she  shot  up  wid  the  spring,'  sez  ould  Mother 
Shadd.  'I'll  thraipse  no  more,'  sez  I. 
'D'ye  mane  that?'  sez  ould  Mother  Shadd, 
lookin'  at  me  sideways,  like  a  hen  looks  at 
a  hawk  whin  the  chickens  are  runnin'  free. 
'Thry  me,  an'  tell,'  sez  I.  Wid  that  I 
pulled  on  me  gloves,  dhrank  oft'  the  tea, 
an'  wint  out  av  the  house  as  stifi'  as  at  gin'- 
ral  p'rade,  for  well  I  knew  that  Dinah 
Shadd's  eyes  Avere  in  the  small  av  me  back 
out  av  the  scullery  window.  Faith,  that 
was  the  only  time  1  mourned  I  was  not  a 
cavalryman,  for  the  sake  av  the  spurs  to 
jingle. 

"  I  wint  out  to  think,  an'  I  did  a  power- 
ful lot  av  thinkin',  but  ut  all  came  round  to 
that  shlip  av  a  girl  in  the  dotted  blue  dhress, 
wid  the  blue  eyes  an'  the  sparkil  in  them. 
Thin  I  kept  off  canteen,  an'  I  kept  to  the 
married  quarthers  or  near  by  on  the  chanst 
av  meetin'  Dinah.  Did  I  meet  her?  Oh, 
me  time  past  wid  a  lump  in  me  throat  as 
big  as  me  valise,  an'  me  heart  goin'  like  a 


196  M UL  VANEY  STORIES. 

farrier's  forge  on  a  Saturday  mornin' ! 
'Twas  'Good-day  to  ye,  Miss  Dinah,'  an' 
'  Good-day  t'you,  corp'ril,'  for  a  week  or 
two,  an'  divil  a  bit  further  could  I  get,  be- 
kaze  av  the  respict  I  had  to  that  girl  that  I 
cud  ha'  broken  betune  finger  an'  thumb." 

Here  I  giggled  as  I  recalled  the  gigantic 
figure  of  Dinah  Shadd  when  she  handed  me 
my  shirt. 

■'  Ye  may  laugh,"  grunted  Mulvaney. 
"  But  I'mspeakin'the  trut',  an'  'tis  you  that 
are  in  fault.  Dinah  was  a  girl  that  wud  ha' 
taken  the  imperiousness  out  av  the  Duchess 
av  Clonmel  in  those  days.  Flower  hand, 
foot  av  shod  air,  an' the  eyes  av  the  mornin' 
she  had.  That  is  me  wife  to-day — ould 
Dinah,  an'  never  aught  else  than  Dinah 
Shadd  to  me. 

"  'Twas  after  three  weeks  standin  off  an' 
niver  makin'  headway  excipt  through  the 
eyes,  that  a  little  drummer-boy  grinned  in 
me  face  whin  I  had  admonished  him  wid 
the  buckle  av  me  belt  for  riotin'  all  over  the 
place.  '  An'  I'm  not  the  only  wan  that 
doesn't  kape  to  the  barricks,'  sez  he.  I  tuk 
him  by  the  scruff  av  his  neck — me  heart 
was  hung  on  a  hair-th rigger  those  days,  you 
will  understand — an',  '  Out  wid  ut,'  sez  I, 
'  or  I'll  lave  no  bone  av  you  unbruk.* 
'  Speak  to  Dempsey,'  sez  he,  howlin'. 
'  Dempsey  which  ?'  sez  I,  '  ye  unwashed 
limb  av  Satan.'  '  Of  the  Bobtailed  Dhra- 
goons,'  sez  he.     '  He's  seen   her  home  from 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAU  SHADD.     197 

her  aunt's  house  in  the  civil  Hnes  four  times 
this  fortniglit.'  HJhild,'  sez  I,  dhroppin' 
him,  '  your  tongue's  stronger  than  your 
body.  Go  to  your  quarters.  I'm  sorry  I 
dhressed  you  down.' 

"At  that  I  went  four  days  to  wanst  hunt- 
in'  Dempsey.  I  was  mad  to  think  that  wid 
all  me  airs  among  women  I  shud  ha'  been 
ch'ated  by  a  basin-faced  fool  av  a  cav'lry- 
man  not  fit  to  trust  on  a  mule  thrun'k. 
Presintly  I  found  him  in  our  lines — the 
Bobtails  was  quartered  next  us — an'  a  tal- 
lowy, top-heavy  son  av  a  she  mule  he  was, 
wid  his  big  brass  spurs  an'  his  plastrons  on 
his  epigastons  an'  all.  But  he  niver  flinched 
a  hair. 

"'A  word  wid  you,  Dempsey,'  sez  I. 
'  You've  walked  wid  Dinah  Shadd  four  times 
this  fortnight  gone.' 

"'What's  that  to  you?'  sez  he.  'I'll 
walk  forty  times  more,  an'  forty  on  top  av 
that,  ye  shovel-futted,  clod-breakin'  infantry 
lance-corp'ril.' 

"  Before  I  could  gyard  he  had  his  gloved 
fist  home  on  me  cheek,  an'  down  1  went  full 
sprawl.  'Will  that  contint  you?'  sez  he, 
blowin'  on  his  knuckles  for  all  the  world 
like  a  Scots  Grays  orf'cer.  '  Contint  ?'  sez  I. 
*  For  your  own  sake,  man,  take  off  your 
spurs,  peel  your  jackut,  an'  onglove.  'Tis 
the  beginnin'  av  the  overture.     Stand  up!' 

''  He  stud  all  he  knew,  but  he  niver  peeled 
his  jackut,  an'  his   shoulders   had   no  fair 


198  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

play.  I  was  fightin'  for  Dinah  Shade!  an' 
that  cut  on  me  cheek.  What  hope  had  he 
forninstme?  'Stand  up!'  sez  I,  time  an' 
again,  when  he  was  beginnin'  to  quarter  the 
ground  an'  gyard  high  an'  go  large.  '  This 
isn't  riding-school,'  sez  I.  '  Oh,  man,  stand 
up,  an'  let  me  get  at  ye  !'  But  whin  I  saw 
he  wud  be  runnin'  about,  I  grup  his  shtock 
in  me  left  an'  his  waist-belt  in  me  right  an' 
swung  him  clear  to  me  right  front,  head 
undher,  he  hammerin'  me  nose  till  the  wind 
was  knocked  out  av  him  on  the  bare  ground, 
'Stand  up,'  sez  I,  'or  I'll  kick  your  head 
into  your  chist.'  An'  I  wud  ha'  done  ut, 
too,  so  ragin'  mad  I  was. 

"  '  Me  collar-bone's  bruk,'  sez  he.  '  Help 
me  back  to  lines.  I'll  walk  wid  her  no 
more.'     So  I  helped  him  back." 

"And  was  his  collar-bone  broken?"  I 
asked,  for  I  fancied  that  only  Learoyd  could 
neatly  accomplish  that  terrible  throw. 

"  lie  pitclied  on  his  left  shoulder-point. 
It  was.  Next  day  the  news  was  in  botli 
barricks ;  an'  whin  I  met  Dinah  Shadd  wid 
a  cheek  like  all  the  rig'mintal  tailors'  sam- 
ples, there  was  no  'Good-mornin',  corp'ril,' 
or  aught  else.  '  An'  what  have  I  done,  Miss 
Shadd,'  sez  I,  very  bould,  plantin'  mesilf 
forninst  her,  '  that  ye  should  not  pass  the 
time  of  day?' 

'' '  Ye've  half  killed  rough-rider  Demp- 
pey,'  sez  she,  her  dear  blue  eyes  fillin'  up. 

'" '  May  be,'  sez  I.     '  Was  he  a  friend  av 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.      199 

yours  that  saw  you  home  four  times  in  a 
fortnight  ?' 

" '  Yes,'  sez  she,  very  bould  ;  but  lier 
mouth  was  down  at  the  corners.  '  An' — 
an'  what's  that  to  you?' 

" '  Ask  Dempsey,'  sez  I,  purtendin'  to  go 
away. 

" '  Did  you  fight  for  me  then,  ye  silly 
man?'  she  sez,  tho'  she  knew  ut  all  along. 

" '  Who  else?'  sez  I ;  an'  I  tuk  one  pace  to 
the  front. 

"  '  I  wasn't  worth  ut,'  sez  she,  fingerin'  her 
apron. 

"'That's  for  me  to  say,'  sez  I.  '  Shall  I 
say  ut  ?' 

"  '  Yes,'  sez  she,  in  a  saint's  whisper;  an' at 
that  I  explained  mesilf ;  an'  she  tould  me 
that  ivry  man  that  is  a  man,  an'  many  that 
is  a  woman,  hears  wanst  in  his  life. 

'' '  But  what  made.ye  cry  at  stattin',  Dinah 
darlin'?'  sez  I. 

" '  Your — your  bloody  cheek,'  sez  she, 
duckin'  her  little  head  down  on  me  sash  (I 
was  duty  for  the  day),  an'  whimperin'  like  a 
sorrowful  angel. 

"  Now  a  man  cud  take  that  two  ways.  I 
tuk  ut  as  pleased  me  best,  an'  my  first  kiss 
wid  ut.  Mother  av  Innocence!  but  I  kissed 
her  on  the  tip  av  the  nose  an'  undher  the 
eye,  an'  a  girl  that  let's  a  kiss  come  tumble- 
ways  like  that  has  never  been  kissed  before. 
Take  note  av  that,  sorr.  Thin  we  wint, 
hand  in  hand,  to   ould  Mother  Shadd  ''Up 


200  3WL  VANEY  STORIES. 

two  little  childher,  an'  she  said  it  was  no  bad 
thing;  an'  ould  Shadd  nodded  behind  his 
pipe,  an'  Dinah  ran  away  to  her  own  room. 
That  day  I  throd  on  rollin'  clouds.  All 
earth  was  too  small  to  hould  me.  Begad,  I 
cud  ha'  picked  the  sun  out  av  the  sky  for  a 
live  coal  to  me  pipe,  so  magnificent  I  was. 
But  I  tuk  recruities  at  squad  drill,  an'  began 
with  general  battalion  advance  whin  I  shud 
ha'  been  balance-steppin'  'em.  Eyah  !  that 
day  !  that  day  !" 

A  very  long  pause.     "  Well  ?"  said  I. 

"  It  was  all  wrong,"  said  IVIulvaney,  with 
an  enormous  sigli.  "  An'  sure  I  know  that 
ev'ry  bit  av  ut  was  me  own  foolishness. 
That  night  I  tuk  maybe  the  half  av  three 
pints — not  enough  to  turn  the  hair  av  a  man 
in  his  natural  sinses.  But  I  was  more  than 
half  dhrunk  wid  pure  joy,  an'  that  canteen 
beer  was  so  mucli  whisky  to  me.  I  can't 
tell  how  ut  came  about,  but  beknse  I  had  no 
thought  for  any  wan  except  Dinah,  bekase  I 
hadn't  slipped  her  little  white  arms  from 
me  neck  five  minutes,  bekase  the  breath  av 
her  kiss  was  not  gone  from  me  mouth,  I 
must  go  through  the  married  lines  on  me 
way  to  quarthers,  an'  I  must  stay  talkin'  to 
a  red-headed  Mullengar  heifer  av  a  girl,  Judy 
Sheehy,  that  was  daughter  to  Mother 
Sheehy,  the  wife  av  Nick  Sheehy,  the  can- 
teen serjint — the  black  curse  av  Shiel3'gh  be 
on  the  whole  brood  that  are  above  groun' 
this  dav! 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     201 

"'An' what  are  ye  houldin'  your  head 
that  high  for,  corp'ril,'  sez  Judy.  '  Come  in 
an'  thry  a  cup  av  tay,'  she  sez,  standin'  in 
the  doorway. 

"  Bein'  an  onbustable  fool,  an'  thinkin' 
av  anythin'  but  tay,  I  wint. 

" '  Mother's  at  canteen,'  sez  Judy,  smooth- 
in'  the  hair  av  hers  that  was  like  red  snakes, 
an'  lookin'  at  me  corner-ways  out  av  her 
green  cat's  eyes.    'Ye  will  not  mind,  corp'ril?' 

"'I  can  endure,'  sez  I.  'Ould  Mother 
Sheehy  bein'  no  divarsion  av  mine,  nor  her 
daughter  too.'  Judy  fetched  the  tay-things 
an'  put  thim  on  the  table,  leanin'  over  me 
very  close  to  get  them  square.  I  dhrew 
back,  thinkin'  of  Dinah. 

'"Is  ut  afraid  you  are  av  a  girl  alone?' 
sez  Judy. 

"  '  No,'  sez  I.     '  Why  should  I  be  ?' 

'"That  rests  wid  the  girl,'  sez  Judy, 
dhrawin'  her  chair  next  to  mine. 

"  '  Thin  there  let  ut  rest,'  sez  I;  an'  think- 
in'  I'd  been  a  trifle  onpolite,  I  sez,  'The 
tay's  not  quite  sweet  enough  for  me  taste. 
Put  your  little  finger  in  the  cup,  Judy  ;  'twill 
make  ut  necthar.' 

'"  What's  necthar?'  sez  she. 

" '  Somethin'  very  sweet,'  sez  I ;  an'  for  the 
sinful  life  av  me  I  cud  not  help  lookin'  at 
her  out  av  the  corner  av  me  eye,  as  I  was 
used  to  look  at  a  woman. 

" '  Go  on  wid  ye,  corp'ril,'  sez  she.  '  You're 
a  flirt.' 


202  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

" '  On  me  sowl  I'm  not,'  sez  I. 

"'Then  you're  a  cruel  handsome  man^ 
an'  that's  worse,'  sez  she,  heavin'  big  sighs 
an'  lookin'  crossways. 

"  '  You  know  your  own  mind,'  sez  I. 

"  '  'Twud  be  better  for  me  if  I  did  not,'  sea 
she. 

" '  There's  a  dale  to  be  said  on  both  sides 
av  that,'  sez  I,  unthinkin'. 

"  '  Say  your  own  part  av  that,  then,  Ter- 
ence darlin','  sez  she;  '  for  begad  I'm  think- 
in'  I've  said  too  much  or  too  little  for  an 
honest  girl ;'  an'  wid  that  she  put  her  arms 
round  me  neck  an'  kissed  me. 

"  '  There's  no  more  to  be  said  after  that,' 
sez  I,  kissin'  her  back  again.  Oh,  the  mane 
scut  that  I  was,  me  head  ringin'  wid  Dinah 
Shadd!  How  does  ut  come  about,  sorr^ 
that  whin  a  man  has  put  the  comether  on 
wan  woman  he's  sure  bound  to  put  ut  on 
another?  'Tis  the  same  thing  at  musketr}^ 
Wan  day  ev'ry  shot  goes  wide  or  into  the 
bank,  an'  the  next — lay  high,  lay  low,  sight 
or  snap — ye  can't  get  off  the  bull's-eye  for 
ten  shots  runnin'." 

"  That  only  happens  to  a  man  who  has 
had  a  good  deal  of  experience ;  he  does  it 
without  thinking,"  I  replied. 

"Thankin'you  for  the  compliment,  sorr, 
ut  may  be  so;  but  I'm  doubtin'  whether 
you  mint  ut  for  a  compliment.  Hear  now.  I 
sat  there  wid  Judy  on  me  knee,  tellin'  me  all 
manner  av   nonsinse,  an'  sayin'   '  yes '  an' 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.      203 

'  no,'  when  I'd  much  better  ha'  kept  tongue 
betune  teeth.  An'  that  was  not  an  hour 
afther  I  had  left  Dinah.  What  I  was  think- 
in'  av  I  can  not  say. 

"Prisently,  quiet  as  a  cat,  ould  Mother 
Sheehy  came  in  velvet-dhrunk.  She  had 
her  daughter's  red-hair,  but 'twas  bald  in 
patches,  an'  I  cud  see  in  her  wicked  ould 
face,  clear  as  lightnin',  what  Judy  wud  be 
twenty  year  to  come.  I  was  for  jumpin'  up, 
but  Judy  niver  moved. 

"'Terence  has  promust,  mother,' sez  she, 
an'  the  cowld  sweat  bruk  out  all  over  me. 

"  Ould  Mother  Sheehy  sat  down  of  a  heap, 
an'  began  play  in'  wid  the  cups.  '  Thin 
you're  a  well-matched  pair,'  she  sez  very 
thick;  'for  he's  the  biggest  rogue  that  iver 
spoiled  the  queen's  shoe-leather,  an' — ' 

" '  I'm  off,  Judy,'  sez  I.  '  You  should  not 
talk  nonsinse  to  your  mother.  Get  her  to 
bed,  girl.' 

"'Nonsinse?'  sez  the  ould  woman,  prick- 
in'  up  her  ears  like  a  cat,  an'  grippin'  the 
table-edge.  'Twill  be  the  most  nonsinsical 
nonsinse  for  you,  ye  grinnin' badger,  if  non- 
sinse 'tis.  Git  clear,  vou.  I'm  goin'  to 
bed.' 

"  I  ran  out  into  the  dhark,  me  head  in  a 
stew'  an'  me  heart  sick,  but  I  had  sinse 
enough  to  see  that  I'd  brought  ut  all  on  me- 
silf.  '  It's  this  to  pass  the  time  av  day  to  a 
panjandhrum  of  hell-cats,'  sez  I.  '  What 
I've  said   an'  what   I've  not  said   do  not 


204  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

matther.  Judy  an'  her  dam  will  hould  me 
for  a  promust  man,  an'  Dinah  will  give  me 
the  go,  an'  I  desarve  ut.  I  will  go  an'  get 
dhrunk,'  sez  I,  '  an'  forgit  about  ut,  for  'tis 
plain  I'm  not  a  marryin'  man.' 

"  On  me  way  to  canteen  I  ran  against 
Lascelles,  color-sarjint  that  was,  av  E  Com- 
p'ny — a  hard,  hard  man,  wid  a  tormint  av  a 
wife.  '  You've  the  head  av  a  drowned  man 
on  your  shoulders,'  sez  he,  '  an'  you're  goin' 
where  j'ou'll  get  a  worse  wan.  Come  back,' 
sez  he.  '  Let  me  go,'  sez  I.  '  I've  thrown 
me  luk  over  the  wall  wid  me  own  hand. 
'Then  that's  not  the  way  to  get  ut  back 
again,'  sez  he.  '  Have  out  wid  your  throu- 
ble,  yefool-bhoy.'  An'  I  tould  him  how  the 
matther  was. 

"He  sucked  in  his  lower  lip.  'You've 
been  thrapped,'  sez  he.  '  JuSheedy  wud  be 
the  betther  for  a  man's  name  to  hers  as  soon 
as  she  can.  An'  ye  thought  ye'd  put  the 
comether  on  her.  That's  the  naturil  vanity 
av  the  baste.  Terence,  you're  a  big  born 
fool,  but  you're  not  bad  enough  to  marry 
into  that  comp'ny.  If  you  said  any  thin,' 
an'  for  all  your  protestations  I'm  sure  you 
did — or  did  not,  which  is  worse — eat  ut  all. 
Lie  like  the  father  av  all  lies,  but  come  out 
of  ut  free  av  Judy.  Do  I  not  know  whatut 
is  to  marry  a  woman  that  was  the  very  spit 
av  Judy  when  she  was  young?  I'm  gettin' 
ould,  and  I've  larnt  patience;  but  you,  Ter- 
ence, you'd  raise  hand  on  Judy  an'  kill  her 


THE  COURTiya  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     205 

in  a  year.  Never  mind  if  Dinali  gives  you 
the  »o ;  you  desarved  ut.  Never  mind  if  the 
■\\'hole  rig'mint  laughs  at  jon  all  day.  Get 
shut  av  Judy  an'  her  mother.  They  can't 
dhrag  you  to  church,  but  if  they  do,  they'll 
dhrag  you  to  hell.  Go  back  to  your  quar- 
thers  an'  lie  down,'sez  he.  Thin,  over  his 
shoulder, '  You  must  ha'  done  with  thim.' 

"  Nixtday  I  wintto  see  Dinah  ;  but  there 
was  no  tucker  in  me  as  I  walked.  I  knew 
the  throuble  wud  come  soon  enough  wid- 
out  any  handlin'  av  mine,  an'  I  dreaded  ut 
sore. 

''  I  heard  Judy  callin'  me,  but  I  hild 
straight  on  to  the  Shadds'  quarthers,  an' 
Dinah  wud  ha'  kissed  me,  but  I  hild  lier 
back. 

"  '  Whin  all's  said,  darlin','  sez  I,  '  you  can 
give  ut  me  if  you  will,  tho'  I  misdoubt  'twill 
be  so  easy  to  come  by  thin.' 

"  I  had  scarce  begun  to  put  the  explana- 
tion into  shape  before  Judy  and  her  mother 
came  to  the  door,  I  think  there  was  a  ve- 
randa, but  I'm  forgettin'. 

"'  Will  ye  not  step  in?'  sez  Dinah,  pretty 
an'  polite,  tho'  the  Shadds  had  no  dealin's 
with  the  Sheehys.  Old  Mother  Shadd 
looked  up  quick,  and  she  was  the  fust  to  see 
the  throuble,  for  Dinah  was  her  daughter. 

" '  I'm  pressed  for  time  to-day,'  sez  Judy, 
as  bould  as  brass ;  '  an'  I've  only  come  for 
Terence,  my  promust  man.  'Tis  strange  to 
find  him  here  the  day  afther  the  day.' 


206  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

"  Dinah  looked  at  me  as  though  I  had  hit 
her,  an'  I  answered  straight. 

"  '  There  was  some  nonsinse  last  night  at 
the  Sheehys'  quarthers,  an'  Judy's  carryin' 
on  the  joke,  darlin','  sez  I, 

"  '  At  the  Sheehys'  quarthers  ?'  sez  Dinah, 
very  slow  ;  an'  Judy  cut  in  wid  : 

"'  He  was  there  from  nine  till  tin,  Dinah 
Shadd,  an'  the  betther  half  av  that  time  I 
was  sittin'  on  his  knee,  Dinah  Shadd.  Ye 
may  look  an'  ye  may  look  an'  ye  may  look 
me  up  an'  down,  but  ye  won't  look  away 
that  Terence  is  me  promust  man.  Terence 
darlin',  'tis  time  for  us  to  be  comin'  home.' 

"  Dinah  Shadd  never  said  word  to  Judy. 
'  Ye  left  me  at  half-past  eight,'  she  sez  to  me, 
'  an'  I  niver  thought  that  ye'd  leave  me  for 
Judy,  promises  or  no  promises.  Go  back 
wid  her,  you  that  have  to  be  fetched  by  a 
girl !  I'm  done  wid  you,'  sez  she ;  an'  she 
ran  into  her  own  room,  her  mother  followin'. 
So  I  was  alone  with  those  two  women,  an'  at 
liberty  to  spake  me  sintiments, 

"'Judy  Sheehy,'  sez  I,  'if  you  made  a 
fool  av  me  betune  the  lights  you  shall  not 
do  ut  in  the  day.  I  never  promised  you 
words  or  lines.' 

" '  You  lie,'  sez  ould  Mother  Sheehy  ;  '  an' 
may  ut  choke  you  where  you  stand  !'  She 
was  far  gone  in  dhrink. 

"•An'  tho'  ut  choked  me  where  I  stud 
I'd  not  change,'  sez  I.  '  Go  home,  Judy.  I 
take  shame  for  a  dacint  girl  like  you  dhrag- 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     207 

gin'  your  mother  out  bareheaded  on  this  er- 
rand. Here,  now,  an'  have  ut  for  an  answer. 
I  gave  me  word  to  Dinah  Shadd  yesterday, 
an'  more  blame  to  me  I  was  with  you  last 
night  talkin'  nonsinse,  but  nothin'  more. 
You've  chosen  to  thry  to  hould  me  on  ut. 
I  w411  not  be  held  thereby  for  anythin'  in 
the  world.     Is  that  enough  ?' 

''  Judy  wint  pink  all  over.  '  An'  I  wish 
you  joy  av  the  perjury,'  sez  she.  'You've 
lost  a  woman  that  would  ha'  wore  her  hand 
to  the  bone  for  your  pleasure ;  an'  'deed,  Ter- 
ence, ye  were  not  thrapped.  .  .  .'  Lascelles 
must  ha'  spoken  plain  to  her.  '  I  am  such 
as  Dinah  is — 'deed  I  am  !  Ye've  lost  a  fool 
av  a  girl  that  '11  never  look  at  you  again,  an' 
ye've  lost  what  ye  niver  had — your  common 
honesty.  If  you  manage  your  men  as  you 
manage  your  love-makin',  small  wonder  they 
call  you  the  worst  corp'ril  in  the  comp'ny. 
Come  away,  mother,'  sez  she. 

"Butdivil  a  fut  would  the  ould  woman 
budge!  '  D'you  hould  by  that?'  sez  she, 
peerin'  up  under  her  thick  gray  eyebrows. 

'"Ay,  an'  wud,'  said  I,  tho'  Dinah  gave 
me  the  go  twinty  times.  '  I'll  have  no  thruck 
with  you  or  yours,'  sez  I.  '  Take  your  child 
away,  ye  shameless  woman.' 

"  '  An' am  I  shameless?' sez  she,  bringin' 
her  hands  up  above  her  head.  '  Thin  what 
are  you,  ye  lyin',  schamin',  week-kneed, 
dhirty-souled  son  of  a  sutler  ?  Am  /  shame- 
less ?    Who  put  the^  open  shame  on  me  an' 


208  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

me  child  that  we  shud  go  beggin'  through 
the  lines  in  daylight  for  the  broken  word  of 
a  man  ?  Double  portion  of  me  shame  be 
upon  you,  Terence  Mulvaney,  that  think 
yersilf  so  strong  !  By  Mary  an'  the  saints, 
by  blood  an'  water,  an'  b}'-  ivry  sorrow 
that  came  into  the  world  since  the  be- 
ginnin',  the  black  blight  fall  on  you  an' 
yours,  so  that  ye  may  niver  be  free  from 
jDain  for  another  when  ut's  not  your  own  ! 
May  your  heart  bleed  in  your  breast  drop 
by  drop  wid  all  your  friends  laughin'  at  the 
bieedin' !  Strong  you  think  yourself?  May 
your  strength  be  a  curse  to  you  to  dhrive 
you  into  the  divil's  hands  against  your  own 
will!  Clear-eyed  you  are?  May  your  eyes 
see  clear  ivry  step  av  the  dark  path  you 
take  till  the  hot  cinders  av  hell  put  thiui 
oui!  May  the  ragin'  dry  thirst  in  me  own 
ould  bones  go  to  you  that  you  shall  never 
pass  "bottle  full  nor  glass  empty  !  God  pre- 
serve the  light  av  your  onderstandin'  to 
you,  me  jewel  av  a  bhoy,  that  ye  may  niver 
forget  what  you  mint  to  be  an'  do,  when 
you're  wallowin'  in  the  muck  I  May  ye  see 
the  betther  an' follow  the  worse  as  long  as 
there's  breath  in  your  body  !  an'  may  ye  die 
quick  in  a  strange  land  watchin'your  death 
before  ut  takes  you  an'  onable  to  stir  hand 
or  foot!' 

"  I  lizard  a  scufflin'  in  the  room  behind, 
an'  thin  Dinah  Shadd's  hand  dhropped  into 
mine  like  a  rose-leaf  into  a  muddy  road. 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     209 

"  '  The  half  av  that  I'll  take,'  sez  she,  '  an' 
more  too,  if  I  can.  Go  home,  ye  silly-talkin' 
woman — go  home  an'  confess.' 

"  '  Come  away  !  Come  away  !'  sez  Judy, 
piillin'  her  mother  l)y  the  shawl.  '  'Twas 
none  av  Terence's  fault.  For  the  love  av 
Mary  stop  the  talkin' !' 

"  '  An'  you  !'  said  ould  INIother  Sheehy, 
spinnin'  round  forninst  Dinah.  'Will  ye 
take  the  half  av  that  man's  load?  Stand 
off  from  him,  Dinah  Shadd,  before  he  takes 
you  down  too — you.  that  look  to  be  a  quar- 
thermaster-serjint's  wife  in  five  years.  Ye 
look  too  high,  child.  Ye  shall  wash  for  the 
quarthermaster-sarjint,  whin  he  pl'ases  to 
give  you  the  job  out  av  charity;  but  a  pri- 
vit's  wife  ye  shall  be  to  the  end.  an'  ivry 
sorrow  of  a  privit's  wife  ye  shall  know,  an' 
niver  a  joy  but  wan,  that  shall  go  from  you 
like  the  tide  from  a  rock.  The  pain  of 
bearin'  ye  shall  know,  but  niver  the  pleasure 
of  givin'  the  breast;  an'  you  shall  put  away 
a  man-child  into  the  common  ground  wid 
niver  a  priest  to  say  a  prayer  over  him,  an' 
on  that  man  child  ye  shall  think  ivry  day  av 
your  life.  Think  long,  Dinah  Shadd,  for 
you'll  niver  have  another  tho'  you  pray  till 
your  knees  are  bleedin'.  The  mothers  av 
children  shall  mock  you  behind  your  back 
whin  you're  wringin'  over  the  wash-tub.  You 
shall  know  what  ut  is  to  take  a  dhrunken 
husband  home  an'  see  him  go  to  the  gyard- 
room.  Will  that  pl'ase  you,  Dinah  Shadd, 
14 


21D  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

that  won't  be  seen  talkin'  to  me  daughter? 
You  shall  talk  to  worse  than  Judy  before 
all's  over.  The  sarjints'  wives  shall  look 
down  on  you,  contemptuous  daughter  av  a 
sarjint,  an'  you  shall  cover  ut  all  up  wid  a 
smilin'  face  whin  your  heart's  burstin'. 
Stand  off  him,  Dinah  Shadd,  for  I've  put  the 
black  curse  of  Shielygh  upon  him,  an'  his 
own  mouth  shall  make  ut  good.' 

"She  pitched  forward  on  her  head  an' 
began  foamin' at  the  mouth.  Dinah  Shadd 
ran  out  wid  water,  and  Judy  d bragged  the 
ould  woman  into  the  veranda  till  she  sat  up. 

"  '  I'm  old  an'  forelore,'  she  sez,  tremblin' 
an' cry  in',  'an'  'tis  like  I  say  a  dale  more 
than  I  mane.' 

"  '  When  you're  able  to  walk — go,'  says 
ould  Mother  Shadd.  '  This  house  has  no 
place  for  the  likes  av  you,  that  have  cursed 
me  daughter.' 

"'Eyah!'  said  the  ould  Avoman.  'Hard 
words  break  no  bones,  an'  Dinah  Shadd  '11 
kape  the  love  av  her  husband  till  me  bones 
are  green  corn.  Judy,  darlin',  I  misremem- 
ber  what  I  came  here  for.  Can  j^ou  lend 
us  the  bottom  av  a  tav-cup  av  tay,  Mrs. 
Shadd?' 

"But  Judy  dhragged  her  off,  cryin'as  tho' 
her  heart  would  break.  An'  Dinah  Shadd 
an'  I,  in  ten  minutes  we  had  forgot  ut  all." 

"Then  why  do  you  remember  it  now?" 
said  I. 

"  Is  ut  like   I'd  forgit  ?     Ivry  word  thaj 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     211 

wicked  oukl  woman  spoke  fell  thrue  in  me 
life  aftherwards  ;  an'  I  cud  ha'  stud  ut  all — 
stud  ut  all,  except  fwhen  little  Shadd  was 
born.  That  was  on  the  line  av  march 
three  months  afther  the  rig'mint  was  taken 
with  cholera.  We  were  betune  Umballa  an' 
Kalka  thin,  an'  I  was  on  picket.  When  I 
came  off',  the  women  showed  me  the  child, 
an'  it  turned  on  ut's  side  an'  died  as  I  looked. 
We  buried  him  l)y  the  road,  an'  Father  Vic- 
tor was  a  day's  march  behind  wid  the  heavy 
baggage,  so  the  comp'ny  captain  read  a 
prayer.  An'  since  then  I've  been  a  child- 
less man,  an'  all  else  that  oukl  Mother 
Sheehy  put  upon  me  an'  Dinah  Shadd. 
What  do  you  think,  sorr?" 

I  thought  a  good  deal,  l)ut  it  seemed  bet- 
ter then  to  reach  out  for  Mulvaney's  hand. 
This  demonstration  nearly  cost  me  the  use 
of  three  fingers.  Whatever  he  knows  of  his 
weaknesses,  Mulvaney  is  entirely  ignorant 
of  his  strength. 

"  But  what  do  you  think  ?"  he  insisted,  as 
I  was  straightening  out  the  crushed  member. 

My  reply  was  drowned  in  yells  and  out- 
cries from  the  next  fire,  where  ten  men  were 
shouting  for  "  Orth'ris !'' "  Privit  Orth'ris!" 
"  Mistah  Or-ther-ris  !"  "  Deah  bov  !"  "  Cap'n 
Orth'ris!"  "Field-Marshal  Orth'ris!"  "Stan- 
ley, you  penn'orth  o'  pop,  come  'ere  to  your 
own  comp'ny!"  And  the  cockney,  who  had 
been  delighting  another  audience  with  re- 
condite and  Rabelaisian    yarns,   was    shot 


212  MULVANEV  STORIES. 

down  among  his  admirers  by  the  major 
force. 

"You've  crumpled  my  dress-shirt  'orrid," 
said  he ;  "  an'  I  sha'n't  sing  no  more  to  this 
'ere  bloomin'  drawin'-room." 

Learoyd,  roused  by  the  confusion,  un- 
coiled himself,  crept  behind  Ortheris,  and 
raised  him  aloft  on  his  shoulders. 

"Sing,  ye  bloomin'  hummin'-bird !"  said 
he  ;  and  Ortheris,  beating  time  on  Learoyd's 
skull,  delivered  himself,  in  the  raucous 
voice  of  the  Ratcliff'e  Highway,  of  the  follow- 
ing chaste  and  touching  ditty : 

"  My  Rirl  she  give  me  the  go  oncet, 

When  I  was  a  London  lad, 
An'  I  went  on  the  drink  for  a  fortnight, 

An'  then  I  went  to  the  had. 
The  queen  she  give  rae  a  shillin', 

To  fight  for  'er  over  the  seas  ; 
But  guv'ment  huilt  me  a  fever-trap, 

An'  Injia  give  me  disease. 

Chorus. — "  Ho  !  don't  you  'eed  what  a  girl  says, 
An'  don't  you  go  for  the  beer  ; 
But  I  was  an  ass  when  I  was  at  grass, 
An'  that  is  why  I'm  'ere. 

"  I  fired  a  shot  at  an  Afghan  ; 

The  beggar  'e  fired  again  ; 
An'  I  lay  on  my  l)ed  with  a  'ole  in  my 'ead, 

An'  missed  the  next  campaign  ! 
I  up  with  my  gun  at  a  Burman 

Who  carried  a  bloomin'  dah, 
But  the  cartridge  stuck  an'  the  bay' nit  bruk, 

An'  all  I  got  was  the  scar. 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.       213 

Chorus. — "  Ho  !  don't  you  aim  at  a  Afghan 

When  you  stand  on  the  sky-line  clear; 
An'  don't  you  go  for  a  Burnian 
If  none  o'  your  friends  is  near. 

"I  served  my  time  for  a  corp'ral, 
An'  wetted  my  stripes  with  pop, 
For  I  went  on  the  bend  with  a  intimate 
friend, 
An'  finished  the  night  in  the  Shop. 
I  served  my  time  for  a  sergeant ; 

The  colonel  'e  sez  '  No  ! 
The  most  you'll  be  is  a  full  C.  B.';* 
An' — very  next  night  'twas  so. 

Chorus. — "Ho  !  don't  you  go  for  a  corp'ral, 
Unless  your  'ead  is  clear  ; 
But  I  was  an  ass  when  I  was  at  grass, 
An'  that  is  why  I'm  'ere. 

"  I've  tasted  the  luck  o'  the  army 
In  barrack  an'  camp  an'  clink, 
An'    I   lost  my  tip  through  the  bloomin' 
trip 
Along  o'  the  women  an'  drink. 
I'm  down  at  tlie  heel  o'  my  service, 
An'  when  I  am  laid  on  the  shelf. 
My  very  wust  friend  from  beginning  to  end, 
By  the  blood  of  a  mouse,  was  myself. 

Chorus. — "Ho  !  don't  you  'eed  what  a  girl  says, 
•  An'  don't  you  go  for  the  beer  ; 

But  I  was  an  ass  wben  I  was  at  grass, 
An'  that  is  why  I'm  'ere." 

"Ay,  listen  to  our  little  man,  now,  singin' 
an'shoutin'  as  tho'  trouble  had  never  touched 

*  Confined  to  barracks. 


214  MUL  VA  XE  Y  STORIES. 

him !  D'you  remiraber  when  he  went  mad 
with  homesickness?"  said  ^Nlulvaney,  recall- 
ing a  never-to-be-forgotten  season  when 
Ortheris  waded  through  the  deep  waters  of 
affliction  and  behaved  abominably.  "  But 
he's  talkin'  the  bitter  truth,  tho'.     Eyah! 

"  Me  very  worst  friend  from  beginning  to  end, 
By  the  blood  of  a  mouse,  was  mesilf.' 

Harkout!"  he  continued,  jumping  to  his 
feet.     "  What  did  I  tell  you,  sorr  ?" 

Fttl!  spttl!  whttl!  went  the  rifles  of  the 
picket  in  the  darkness,  and  we  heard  their 
feet  rushing  toward  us  as  Ortheris  tumbled 
past  me  and  into  his  great-coat.  It  is  an 
impressive  thing,  even  in  peace,  to  see  an 
armed  camp  spring  to  life  with  clatter  of 
accouterraents,  click  of  Martini  levers,  and 
blood-curdling  speculations  as  to  the  fote  of 
missing  boots.  "  Pickets  dhriven  in,"  said 
Mulvaney,  staring  like  a  buckatbay  into  the 
soft,  clinging  gloom.  "Stand  by  an'  kape 
close  to  us.  If  'tis  cav'lry,  they  may  blun- 
dher  into  the  fires." 

Tr — ra — ra! — ta-^a — la!  sung  the  thrice- 
blessed  bugle,  and  the  rush  to  form  square 
began.  There  is  much  rest  and  peace  in  the 
heart  of  a  square  if  you  arrive  in  time,  and 
are  not  trodden  upon  too  frequently.  The 
smell  of  leather  belts,  fatigue  uniform,  and 
packed  humanity  is  comforting. 

A   dull  grumble,   that  seemed  to  come 


THE  COURTING  OF  DINAH  SHADD.     215 

from  every  point  of  the  compass  at  once, 
struck  our  listening  ears,  and  little  thrills 
of  excitement  ran  down  the  faces  of  the 
square.  Those  who  write  so  learnedly  about 
judging  distance  by  sound  should  hear  cav- 
alry on  the  move  at  night.  A  high-pitched 
yell  on  the  left  told  us  that  thedisturbers  were 
friends — the  cavalry  of  the  attack,  who  had 
missed  their  direction  in  the  darkness,  and 
were  feeling  blindly  for  some  sort  of  sup- 
port and  camping-ground.  The  difficulty 
explained,  they  jingled  on. 

"  Double  ])ickets  out  there;  by  your  arms 
lie  down  and  sleep  the  rest,"  said  the  major, 
and  the  square  melted  away  as  the  men 
scrambled  for  their  places  by  the  fires. 

When  I  woke  I  saw  Mulvaney.  the  night- 
dew  gemming  his  mustache,  leaning  on  his 
rifle  at  picket,  lonely  as  Prometheus  on  his 
rock,  with  I  know  not  what  vultures  tearing 
his  liver. 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DRAF'. 

"We're  goin'  'ome,  we're  goin'  ome — 

Our  ship  is  at  the  shore, 
An'  you  mus'  pack  your 'aversack, 

For  vre  won't  come  back  no  more. 
Ho,  don't  yon  grieve  for  me, 

My  lovely  Mary  Ann, 
For  I'll  marry  you  yet  on  afourp'ny  bit, 

As  a  time-expired  ma  a  an  ! 

Barrack-room  Ballad. 

An  awful  tiling  has  happened !  My 
friend,  Private  Mulvaney,  who  went  home 
in  the  "Serapis,''  time-expired,  not  very 
long  ago,  has  come  back  to  India  as  a  civil- 
ian!  It  was  all  Dinah  Shadd's  fault.  She 
could  not  stand  the  poky  little  lodgings, 
and  she  missed  her  servant  Abdullah  more 
than  words  could  tell.  The  fact  was  that 
the  Mulvaneys  had  been  out  here  too  long, 
and  had  lost  touch  of  England. 

Mulvaney  knew  a  contractor  on  one  of 
the  new  Central  India  lines,  and  wrote  to 
him  for  some  sort  of  work.  The  contractor 
said  that  if  Mulvaney  could  pay  the  passage 
he  would  give  him  command  of  a  gang  of 
coolies  for  old  sake's  sake.  The  pay  was 
eighty-five  rupees  a  month,  and  Dinah 
Shadd  said  that  if  Terence  did  not  accept 
( 216 ) 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DEAF'  217 

she  would  make  his  hfe  a  "blasted  purga- 
thory."  Therefore  the  Mulvaneys  came  out 
as  ''civilians,"  which  was  a  great  and  terri- 
ble fall;  though  Mulvaney  tried  to  disguise 
it,  by  saying  that  he  was  "  ker'nel  on  the 
railway  line,  an'  a  consequinshal  man." 

He  wrote  me  an  invitation,  on  a  tool-in- 
dent form,  to  visit  him  ;  and  I  came  down 
to  the  funny  little  "  construction  "  bungalow 
at  the  side  of  the  line.  Dinah  Shadd  had 
planted  pease  about  and  about,  and  nature 
had  spread  all  manner  of  green  stuff  round 
the  place.  There  was  no  change  in  INIulva- 
ney  except  the  change  of  raiment,  which 
was  deplorable,  but  could  not  be  helped. 
He  was  standing  upon  his  trolly,  harang- 
uing a  gang-man,  and  his  shoulders  were  as 
well  drilled,  and  his  big,  thick  chin  was  as 
clean-shaven  as  ever. 

"  I'm  a  civilian  now,"  said  Mulvaney. 
"  Cud  you  tell  that  I  was  Iver  a  martial 
man?  Don't  answer,  sorr,  av  you're  strain- 
in'  betune  a  complimint  an'  a  lie.  There's 
no  houldin'  Dinah  Shadd  now  she's  got  a 
house  av  her  own.  Go  inside  an'  dhrink  tay 
out  av  chiny  in  the  drrrrawin'-room,  an' 
thin  we'll  drink  like  Christians  undher  the 
tree  here.  Scut,  ye  naygur-folk !  There's 
a  sahib  come  to  call  on  me,  an'  tliat's  more 
than  he'll  iver  do  for  you  onless  you  run ! 
Get  out,  an'  go  on  pilin'  up  the  earth,  quick, 
till  sundown." 

When  we  three  were  comfortably  settled 


218  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

under  the  big  sisham  in  front  of  the  bunga- 
low, and  the  first  rush  of  questions  and 
answers  about  Privates  Ortheris  and  Lea- 
royd  and  old  times  and  places  had  died 
away,  Mulvane.y  said,  reflectively  :  "  Glory 
be  there's  no  p'rade  to-morrow,  and  no  bun- 
headed  corp'ril-bhoy  to  give  you  his  lip. 
An'  yit  I  don't  know.  'Tis  hard  to  be  some- 
thing ye  niver  were  an'  niver  meant  to  be, 
an'  all  the  ould  days  shut  up  along  wid 
your  papers.  Eyah!  I'm  growin'  rusty, 
an'  'tis  the  will  av  God  that  a  man  mustn't 
serve  his  quane  for  time  an'  all." 

He  helped  himself  to  a  fresh  peg,  and 
sighed  furiously. 

"Let  your  beard  grow,  Mulvaney,"  said 
I,  ''  and  then  you  won't  be  troubled  with 
those  notions.     You'll  be  a  real  civilian." 

Dinah  Shadd  had  confided  to  me  in  the 
drawing-room  her  desire  to  coax  Mulvaney 
into  letting  his  beard  grow.  "  'Twas  so 
civilian-like,"  said  poor  Dinah,  who  hated 
her  husband's  hankering  for  his  old  life. 

"  Dinah  Shadd,  you're  a  dishgrace  to  an 
honust,  clane-scraped  man  !"  said  Mulvaney, 
without  replying  to  me.  ''Grow  a  beard  on 
your  own  chin,  darlint,  and  lave  me  razors 
alon',\  They're  all  that  stand  betune  me 
and  disris-pect-ability.  Av  I  didn't  shave, 
I  wud  be  torminted  wid  an  outrajis  thurrst; 
for  there's  nothin'  so  dhryin'  to  the  throat 
as  a  big  billy-goat  waggin'  undher  the  chin. 
Ye  wuldn't  have  me  dhrink  always,  Dinah 


TEE  BIG  DRUNK  DRAP'.  219 

/Bhadd  ?  By  the  same  token,  you're  kapin' 
me  crool  dhry.    Let  me  look  at  that  whisky." 

The  whisky  was  lent  and  returned,  but 
Dinah  Shadd,  who  had  been  just  as  eager  as 
her  husband  in  asking  after  old  friends,  rent 
me  with  : 

"  I  take  shame  for  you,  sorr,  comin'  down 
here — though  the  saints  know  you're  as 
welkim  as  the  daylight  whin  you  do  come — 
an'  upsettin'  Terence's  head  wid  your  non- 
sense about — about  fwhat's  much  better 
forgotten.  He  bein'  a  civilian  now,  an'  you 
niver  was  aught  else.  Can  you  not  let  the 
army  rest?     'Tis  not  good  for  Terence." 

I  took  refuge  by  Mulvaney,  for  Dinah 
Shadd  has  a  temper  of  her  own. 

"  Let  be— let  be,"  said  Mulvaney.  "  'Tis 
only  wanst  in  a  way  I  can  talk  about  the 
old  days."  Then  to  me:  "Ye  say  Dhrum- 
shticks  is  well,  an'  his  lady  tu  ?  I  niver 
knew  how  I  liked  the  gray  garron  till  I  was 
shut  av  him  an'  Asia."  ("Dhrumshticks" 
was  the  nickname  of  the  colonel  command- 
ing IMulvaney's  old  regiment.)  "  W  ill  ye 
be  seein' him  again?  You  will.  Thin  tell 
him" — Mulvaney's  eves  began  to  twinkle 
—"tell  hira  wid  Privit"— 

"  Mister,  Terence,"  interrupted  Dinah 
Shadd. 

"  Now  the  divil  an'  all  his  angels  an'  the 
firmament  av  hiven  fly  away  wid  the  '  Mis- 
ter,' an'  the  sin  av  makin'  me  swear  be  on 
your  own  confession,  Dinah  Shadd !     Privit, 


220  MULVANEY  STORIES. 

I  tell  ye.  Wid  Privit  Mulvaney's  best  obe- 
dience, that  but  for  me  the  last  time-expired 
wud  be  still  pullin'  hair  on  their  way  to  the 
sea." 

He  threw  himself  back  in  the  chair, 
chuckled,  and  was  silent. 

"  Mrs.  Mulvaney,"  I  said,  "  please  take  up 
the  whisky,  and  don't  let  him  have  it  until 
he  has  told  the  story." 

Dinah  Shadd  dexterously  whipped  the 
bottle  away,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "  'Tis 
nothing  to  be  proud  av,"  and  thus  captured 
by  the  enemy,  Mulvaney  spake: 

"  'Twas  on  Chuseday  week.  I  was  behad- 
erin'  round  wid  the  gangs  on  the  'bankmint 
— I've  taught  the  hoppers  how  to  kape  step 
an'  stop  screechin' — whin  a  head  gang-man 
comes  up  to  me, wid  about  twoinches  avshirt- 
tail  hangin'  round  his  neck  an'  a  disthressful 
light  in  his  oi.  'Sahib,'  sez  he,  'there's  a 
rig' mint  an'  a  half  av  soldiers  up  at  the 
junction,  knockin'  red  cinders  out  av  ivry- 
thing  an'  ivrybody !  They  thried  to  hang 
me  in  me  cloth,'  he  sez,  'an'  there  will  be 
murder  an'  ruin  an'  rape  in  the  place  before 
nightfall!  They  say  they're  comin'  down 
here  to  wake  us  up.  What  will  we  do  wid 
our  women-folk?' 

'"  Fetch  me  throlly  !'  sez  I ;  'me  heart's 
sick  in  me  ribs  for  a  wink  at  anything  wid 
the  quane's  uniform  on  ut.  Fetch  me 
throlly,  an'  six  of  the  jildiest  men,  an'  run 
me  up  in  shtyle.'  " 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DEAF'.  221 

"  He  tuk  his  best  coat,"  said  Dinah  Shadd 
reproachfully. 

"  'Twas  to  do  honor  to  the  widdy.  I  cud 
ha'  done  no  less,  Dinah  Shadd.  You  and 
your  digreshins  interfere  wid  the  coorse  av 
the  narrative.  Have  you  iver  considhered 
fwhat  I  wud  look  like  wid  me  head  shaved 
as  well  as  nie  chin  ?  You  bear  that  in 
mind,  Dinah  darlin'. 

"  I  was  throllied  up  six  miles,  all  to  get  a 
squint  at  that  draf.  I  knew  'twas  a  spring 
draf  goin'  home,  for  there's  no  rig'mint 
hereabouts,  more's  the  pity." 

"Praise  the  Virgin!"  murmured  Dinah 
Shadd.     But  Mulvaney  did  not  hear. 

"  \\'hin  I  was  about  three  quarters  av  a 
mile  oft'  the  rest-camp,  powtherin'  along  fit  to 
burrst,  I  heard  the  noise  av  the  men,  an',  on 
mesowl,  sorr,  I  cud  catch  the  voice  av  Peg 
Barney  bellowin'  like  a  bison  wid  the  belly- 
ache. You  remimber  Peg  Barney  that  was  in 
D  Comp'ny — a  red,  hairy  scraun,  wid  a  scar 
on  his  jaw?  Peg  Barney  that  cleared  out 
the  Blue  Lights'  Jubilee  meeting  wid  the 
cook-room  mop  last  year? 

"Thin  I  knew  ut  was  a  draf  of  the  ould 
rig'mint,  an'  I  was  conshumed  wid  sorrow 
for  the  bhoy  that  was  in  charge.  We  was 
harrd  scrapin's  at  any  time.  Did  I  iver  tell 
you  how  Horker  Kelley  went  into  clink 
nakid  as  Phoebus  Apollonius,  wid  the  shirts 
av  the  corp'ril  an'  file  undher  his  arrum? 
An'  he  was  a  moild  man  !  But  I'm  digresh- 


222  MUL  VANEY  STORIES. 

in'.  'Tis  a  shame  both  to  the  rig' mints  an' 
the  arnny  sendin'  down  little  orf  cer  bhoys 
wid  a  draf  av  strong  men  mad  wid  liquor 
an'  the  chanst  av  gettin'  shut  av  India,  an' 
niver  a  punishment  that's  fit  to  be  given 
right  down  an'  away  from  cantonmints  to 
the  dock  !  'Tis  this  nonsince.  Whin  I  am 
servin'  me  time,  I'm  undher  the  articles  av 
war,  an'  can  be  whipped  on  the  peg  for  them. 
But  whin  I  served  me  time,  I'm  a  Reserve 
man,  an'  the  articles  av  war  haven't  any 
hould  on  me.  An'  orf  cer  can't  do  anythin' 
to  a  time-expired  savin'  confinin'  him  to 
barricks.  'Tis  a  wise  rig'lation,  bekaze  a 
time-expired  does  not  have  any  barricks, 
bein'  on  the  move  all  the  time.  'Tis  a  Solo- 
mon av  a  rig'lation,  is  that.  I  wud  like  to 
be  inthroduced  to  the  man  who  secreted  ut. 
'Tis  easier  to  get  colts  from  a  Kibbereen 
horse-fair  into  Galway  than  to  take  a  bad 
draf  over  tin  miles  av  country.  Consi- 
quintly  that  rig'lation  for  fear  that  the  men 
wad  be  hurt  by  the  little  orf'cer  boy.  No 
matther.  The  nearer  me  throlly  came  to 
the  rest-camp,  the  woilder  was  the  shine, 
an'  the  louder  was  the  voice  av  Peg  Barney. 
'  'Tis  good  I  am  here,'  thinks  I  to  meself, 
'  for  Peg  alone  is  employmint  to  two  or 
three.'  He  bein',  I  well  knew,  as  copped  as 
a  dhrover. 

"  Faith,  that  rest-camp  was  a  sight!  The 
tent-ropes  was  all  skew  nosed,  an' the  pegs 
looked  as  dhrunk  as  the  mer^fifty  av  thim 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DRAF\  223 

— thescourin's  an'  rinsin's  an'  divil's  lavin's 
av  the  ould  rig'mint.  I  tell  you,  sorr,  they 
were  dhrunker  than  any  men  you've  ever 
seen  in  your  mortial  life.  How  does  a  draf 
get  dhrunk  ?  How  does  a  frog  get  fat? 
They  suk  ut  in  through  their  shkins. 

"  There  was  Peg  Barney  sittin'  on  the 
groun'  in  his  shirt — wan  shoe  off  an'  wan 
shoe  on — whackin'  a  tent-peg  over  the  head 
wid  his  boot,  an'  singin'  fit  to  wake  the 
dead.  'Twas  no  clane  song  that  he  sung, 
though.     'Twas  the  '  Divil's  Mass.'  " 

"  What's  that  ?"  I  asked. 

''  Whin  a  bad  egg  is  shut  av  the  arrmy,he 
sings  the  '  Divil's  Mass  '  for  a  good  rid- 
dance; an'  that  means  swearin'  at  ivrything 
from  the  commandher-in-chief  down  to  the 
room-corp'ril,  such  as  you  niver  in  3-our  days 
heard.  Some  men  can  swear  to  make  green 
turf  crack!  Have  you  iver  heard  the  curse 
in  an  Orange  lodge?  The  '  Divil's  Mass'  is 
tin  times  worse,  an'  Peg  Barney  was  singin' 
ut,  whackin'  the  tent-peg  on  the  head  wid 
his  boot  for  each  man  that  he  cursed.  A 
powerful  big  voice  had  Peg  Barney,  an'  a 
hard  swearer  he  was  whin  sober.  I  stood 
forninst  him,  an'  'twas  not  me  oi  alone  that 
cud  tell  Peg  was  dhrunk  as  a  coot. 

"'Good-mornin',  Peg,'  sez  I,  whin  he 
dhrew  breath  afther  cursin'  the  adj'tint- 
gin'ral ;  'I've  put  on  me  best  coat  to  see 
you,  Peg  Barney,'  sez  I. 

" '  Thm  take  lit  off  again,'  sez  Peg  Barney, 


224  MULVANEY  sTOhlES. 

latherin'  away  wid  tlie  boot;  'take  ut  off 
an'  dance,  ye  lousy  civilian  !' 

"  Wid  that  he  begins  cursin'  ould  Dhrum- 
shticks,  being  so  full  he  clean  niisremimbers 
the  brigade-major  an'  the  judge  advokit 
giii'ral. 

"'Do  you  not  know  me,  Peg?'  sez  I, 
though  me  blood  was  hot  in  me  wid  being 
called  a  civilian." 

"An'  him  a  decent  married  man!"  wailed 
Dinah  Shadd. 

" '  I  do  not,'  s<'z  Peg, '  but  dhrunk  or  sober 
I'll  tear  the  hide  off  your  back  wid  a  shovel 
whin  I've  stopped  singin'.' 

"'Say  you  so.  Peg  Barney?'  sez  I.  "Tis 
clear  as  mud  you've  ibrgotten  me.  I'll  as- 
sist your  autobiogra])hy.'  Wid  that  I 
stretched  Peg  Barney,  boot  an'  all,  an'  wint 
into  the  camp.     An  awful  sight  ut  was  ! 

"  '  Where's  the  orfcer  in  charge  av  the  de- 
tachment?' sez  I  to  Scrub  Greene — the 
manest  little  worm  that  ever  walked. 

"'There's  no  orfcer,  ye  ould  cook,' sez 
Scrub;  '  we're  a  bloomin'  republic' 

"'Are  you  that?'  sez  I;  'thin  I'm  O'Con- 
nell  the  Dictator,  an'  by  this  you  will  lam 
to  kape  a  civil  tongue  in  your  rag-box.' 

"  Wid  that  I  stretched  Scrub  Greene  an' 
wint  to  the  orf  cer's  tent.  Twas  a  new  little 
bhoy — not  Avan  I'd  iver  seen  before.  He 
was'sittin'  in  his  tent,  purtendin'  not  to  'ave 
ear  av  the  racket. 

"  I  saluted — but  for  the  life  av  me  I  mint 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DRAF'.  225 

to  shake  hands  whin  I  wint  in.  'Twas  the 
sword  hangin'  on  the  tent-pole  changed  me 
will. 

'"  Can't  I  help,  sorr?'  sez  I;  '  'tis  a  strong 
man's  job  they've  given  you,  an'  you'll  be 
wantin'  help  by  sundown.'  He  was  a  bhoy 
wid  bowils,  that  child,  an'  a  rale  gintleman. 

" '  Sit  down,'  sez  he. 

" '  Not  before  me  orf  cer,'  sez  I ;  an'  I 
tould  him  fwhat  me  service  was. 

"  '  I've  heard  av  you,'  sez  he.  '  You  tuk 
the  town  of  Lungtungpen  nakid.' 

"'Faith,'  thinks  I,  'that's  honor  an' 
glory  ;'  for  'twas  Lift'nint  Brazenose  did  that 
job.  '  I'm  wid  ye,  sorr,'  sez  I,  '  if  I'm  av 
use.  They  shud  niver  ha'  sent  you  down 
wid  the  draf .  Savin'  your  prisince,  sorr,'  I 
sez,  '  'tis  only  Ijift'nint  Hackerston  in  the 
ould  rig'mint  can  manage  a  home  draf'.' 

'"  I've  never  had  charge  of  men  like  this 
before,'  sez  he,  playin'  Avid  the  pens  on  the 
table;  'an'  I  see  by  the  rig'lations — ' 

'"Shut  your  oi  to  the  rig'lations,  sorr,' I 
sez, '  till  the  throoper's  into  blue  wather.  By 
the  rig'lations  you've  got  to  tuck  thim  up 
for  the  night,  or  they'll  be  runnin'  foul  av 
me  coolies  an'  makin'  a  shiverarium  half 
through  the  country.  Can  you  trust  your 
non-coms,  sorr?' 
o  u  I  Yes,'  sez  he. 

"  *  Good,'  sez  I ;  *  there'll  be  throuble  be- 
fore the  night.     Are  you  marchin',  sorr  ?" 

"  '  To  the  next  station,'  sez  he. 
Ii»  ' 


226  M  UL  VA  NE  Y  S  TORIES. 

" '  Better  still,'  sez  I ;  '  there'll  be  big  throu- 
ble.' 

"  '  Can't  be  too  hard  on  a  home  draf','  sez 
he;  'the  great  thing  is  to  get  thim  in-ship.' 

"  *  Faith,  you'  ve  larnt  the  half  av  your  les- 
son, sorr,'  sez  I,  '  but  av  you  shtick  to  the 
rig'lations  you'll  niver  get  thim  in-ship  at 
all,  at  all.  Or  there  won't  be  a  rag  av  kit 
betune  thim  whin  you  do.' 

"  'Twas  a  dear  little  orf  cor  bhoy,  an'  by 
way  av  kapin'  his  heart  up,  I  tould  him 
fwhat  I  saw  wanst  in  a  draf  in  Egypt." 

"  What  was  that,  Mulvaney  ?"  said  I. 

"  Sivin-an'-fifty  men  sittin'  on  the  bank  av 
a  canal,  laughin'  at  a  poor  little  squidgereen 
av  an  orf'cer  that  they'd  made  wade  into  the 
slush  an'  pitch  the  things  out  av  the  boats 
for  their  lord  high  mightinesses.  That 
made  tlie  orfcer  boy  woild  wid  indigna- 
tion. 

"  '  Soft  an'aisy,  sorr,'  sez  I ;  '  you've  niver 
had  your  draf  in  hand  since  you  left  can- 
tonmints.  Wait  till  the  night,  an'  your 
work  will  be  ready  to  you.  Wid  your  per- 
mission, sorr,  I  will  investigate  the  camp, 
an'  talk  to  me  ould  frins.  'Tis  no  manner 
av  use  thryin'  to  shtop  the  divilmint  now.' 

"  Wid  that  I  wint  out  into  the  camp  an' 
inthrojuced  mesilf  to  ivry  man  sober  enough 
to  remimber  me.  I  was  some  wan  in  the 
ould  days,  an'  the  bhoys  was  glad  to  see  me 
— all  excipt  Peg  Barney,  wid  a  eye  like  a 
♦«mato  five  days  in  the  bazaar,  an'  a  nos? 


THE  BIG  DEUNK  DEAF'.  227 

to  correspon'.  They  come  round  me  an' 
shuk  me,  an'  I  tould  thim  I  was  in  privit 
employ  wid  an  income  av  me  own,  an*  a 
drrrawin'-room  fit  to  bate  the  quane's ;  an' 
wid  me  lies  an'  me  shtories  an'  nonsince 
gin'rally  I  kept  'em  quiet  in  wan  way  an' 
another,  knockin'  foun'  the  camp.  'Twas 
bad  even  thin  whin  I  was  the  Angel  av 
Peace. 

"  I  talked  to  me  ould  non-coms — they  was 
sober — an'  betune  me  an'  thim  we  wore  the 
draf  over  into  their  tents  at  the  proper 
time.  The  little  orf'cer  bhoy  he  comes 
round,  decint  and  civil-spoken  as  might 
be. 

"  '  Rough  quarters,  men,'  sez  he,  '  but 
you  can't  look  to  be  as  comfortable  as  in. 
barricks.  We  must  make  the  bestav  things. 
I've  shut  me  eyes  to  a  dale  av  dog's  trick 
to-day,  an'  now  there  must  be  no  more  av 
ut.' 

" '  No  more  we  will.  Come  an'  have  a 
dhrink,  me  son,'  sez  Peg  Barney,  staggerin* 
where  he  stud.  Me  little  orf'cer  bhoy  kep 
his  timper. 

"  '  You're  a  sulky  swine,  ye  are,'  sez  Peg 
Barney,  an'  at  that  the  men  in  the  tentbegcai 
to  laugh. 

"  I  tould  ye  me  orfcer  bhoy  had  bowils. 
He  cut  Peg  Barney  as  near  as  might  be  on 
the  oi  that  I'd  squashed  whin  we  first  met. 
Peg  wint  spinnin'  acrost  the  tent. 

"  '  Peg  him  out,  sorr,'  pez  I,  in  a  whishper. 


228  3IULVANEY  STORIEU 

"  '  Peg  him  out !'  sez  me  ori'eer  bhoy,  up 
loud,  just  as  if  'twas  battalion  p'rade,  an' he 
pickin'  his  "wurruds  from  the  saijint. 

"  The  non-coms  tuk  Peg  Barney — a  how- 
lin'  handful  he  was — an'  in  three  minuts  he 
was  pegged  out — chin  down,  tight-drawn — 
on  his  stummick,  a  peg  to  each  arm  an'  leg, 
swearin'  fit  to  turn  a  naygur  white. 

"  I  tuk  a  peg  an'  jammed  ut  into  his  ugly 
jaw.  '  Bite  on  that,  Peg  Barney,'  I  sez- '.  '  the 
night  is  settin'  frosty,  an'  you'll  be  wantin' 
divarsion  before  the  mornin'.  But  for  the 
rig'lations  you'd  be  bitin'  on  a  bullet  now 
at  the  thriangles.  Peg  Barney,'  sez  I. 

"  All  the  draf  was  out  av  their  tents 
watchin'  Barney  bein'  pegged. 

"  '  'Tis  ag'in  the  rig'lations  !  He  strook 
him !'  screeches  out  Scrub  Greene,  who  was 
always  a  lawyer ;  an'  some  av  the  men  tuk 
up  the  shoutin'. 

"  '  Peg  out  that  man  !'  sez  me  orf  cer  bhoy, 
niver  losin'  his  timper;  an'  the  non-coms 
went  in  an'  pegged  out  Scrub  Greene  by 
the  side  av  Peg  Barney. 

"  I  could  see  that  the  draf  was  comin' 
roun'.  The  men  stud,  not  knowin'  fwhat 
to  do. 

"  '  Get  to  your  tents  !'  sez  me  orf'cer  bhoy. 
'Sarjint,  put  a  sintry  over  these  two  men.' 

"  The  men  wint  back  into  the  tents  like 
jackals,  an'  the  rest  av  the  night  there  was 
no  noise  at  all  excipt  the  stip  av  the  sintry 
over  the  two,  an'  Scrub  Greene  blubberin' 


THE  BIG  DRUNK  DEAF'.  229 

like  a  child.  'Twas  a  chill}'  night,  an'  faith 
ut  sobered  Peg  Barney. 

"  Just  before  revelly,  me  orf'cer  bhoy 
comes  out  an'  sez :  'Loose  those  men  an' 
sind  thim  to  their  tents  !'  Scrub  Greene 
wint  away  widout  a  word,  but  Peg  Barney 
stiff  wid  the  cowld,  stud  like  a  sheep,  thryin' 
to  make  his  orf'cer  understhand  he  was 
sorry  for  playin'  the  goat. 

"  There  was  no  tucker  in  the  draf  whin 
ut  fell  in  for  the  march,  an'  divil  a  wurrd 
about '  illegality'  could  I  hear. 

"I  wint  to  the  ould  color-sarjint  an'  I 
sez,  '  Let  me  die  in  glory,'  sez  I.  '  I've 
seen  a  man  this  day  !' 

'"A  man  he  is,'  sez  ould  Mother;  'the 
draf's  as  sick  as  a  herrin.'  They'll  all  go 
down  to  the  sea  like  lambs.  That  bhoy  has 
the  bowils  av  a  canton mi?Tt  av  gin'rals.' 

"'Amin,'  sez  I,  'an'  good  luck  go  wid 
him,  wheriver  he  be,  by  land  or  by  sea. 
Let  me  know  how  the  draf  gets  clear.' 

"  An'  do  you  know  how  they  did  ?  That 
bhoy,  so  I  was  tould  by  letters  from  Bom- 
bay, bullydamned  'em  down  to  the  dock, 
till  they  cudn't  call  their  sowls  their  own. 
From  the  time  they  left  me  oi  till  they  was 
'tween  decks,  not  wan  av  thim  was  more 
than  dacintly  dhrunk.  An',  by  the  holy 
articles  av  war,  whin  they  wint  aboard  they 
cheered  him  till  they  cudn't  spake,  an' that, 
mark  you,  has  not  come  about  wid  a  draf  in 
the  mim'ry   av   livin'   man!     You   look  fjo 


2^0  MULVAXEY  STORIES. 

tliat  little  orf'cer  bhoy.  He  has  bowils. 
'Tisnot  ivry  child  that  wud  chuck  the  rig'la- 
tions  to  Flanders  an'  stretch  Peg  Barney  on 
a  wink  from  a  broken  an'  dilapidated  ould 
carkiss  like  mesilf.    I'd  be  proud  to  serve — " 

"  Terence,  you're  a  civilian,"  said  Dinah 
Shadd,  warningly. 

"  So  I  am — so  I  am.  Is  ut  likely  I  wud 
forget  ut?  But  he  was  a  gran'  bhoy,  all  the 
same,  an'  I'm  only  a  mudtipper  wid  a  hod 
on  me  shoulthers.  The  whisky 'sin  the  heel 
av  your  hand,  sorr.  Wid  your  good  lave 
we'll  dhrink  to  the  ould  rig'mint — three 
fingers — standin'  up  !" 

And  we  drank. 


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Through  the  Looklng°glass  and  whst  Alice 
Found  There.  A  companion  to  "Alice  in 
Wonderland,"  with  50  illustrations  by  John 
Tenniel. 


Altemus'  Young  Peoples*  Library.— Continued. 

Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.  Arranged  for 
young  readers.  With  50  full-page  and  text 
illustrations. 

A  Child's  Story  of  the  Bible.  With  72  full-page 
illustrations. 

A  Child's  Life  of  Christ.  With  49  illustrations. 
Non-sectarian.  Children  are  early  attracted 
and  sweetly  riveted  by  the  wonderful  Story  of 
the  Master  from  the  Manger  to  the  Throne. 

Swiss  Family  Robinson.  With  50  illustrations. 
The  father  of  the  family  tells  the  tale  of  the 
vicissitudes  through  which  he  and  his  wife  and 
children  pass,  the  wonderful  discoveries  made 
and  dangers  encountered.  The  book  is  full  of 
interest  and  instruction. 

Christopher  Columbus  and  the  Discovery  of 
America.  With  70  illustrations.  Every  Am- 
erican boy  and  girl  should  be  acquainted  with 
the  story  of  the  life  of  the  great  discoverer, 
with  its  struggles,  adventures  and  trials. 

The  Story  of  Exploration  and  Discovery  in 
Africa,  With  So  illustrations.  Records  the 
experiences  of  adventures  and  discoveries  in 
developing  the   "Dark  Continent." 

The  Fables  of  ^^sop.  Compiled  from  the  best 
accepted  sources.  With  62  illustrations.  The 
fables  of  ^sop  are  among  the  very  earliest 
compositions  of  this  kind,  and  probably  have 
never  been  surpassed  for  point  and  brevity. 

Gulliver's  Travels.  Adapted  for  young  readers, 
with  50  illustrations. 

Mother  Goose's  Rhymes,  Jingles  and  Fairy 
Tales.     With  234  illustrations. 

Lives  of  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States. 

By  Prescott   Holmes.     With  portraits   of  the 
Presidents  and  also  of  the  unsuccessful  candi- 


Altemus'  Young  Peoples'  Library.— Continued. 

dates  for  the  office  ;  as  well  as  the  ablest  of  the 
Cabinet  officers.     Revised  and  up-to-date. 
The  Story  of  Adventure  in  the  Frozen  Seas. 

With  70  illustrations.  By  Prescott  Holmes. 
The  book  shows  how  much  can  be  accomplished 
by  steady  perseverance  and  indomitable  pluck. 

Illustrated  Natural  History.     By  the  Rev.  J.  G. 

Wood,  with  80  illustrations.  This  author  has 
done  more  to  popularize  the  study  of  natural 
history  than  any  other  writer.  The  illustrations 
are  striking  and  life-like. 

A  Child's  History  of  England.  By  Charles 
Dickens,  with  50  illustrations.  Tired  of  listen- 
ing to  his  children  memorize  the  twaddle  of  old- 
fashioned  English  history,  the  author  covered 
the  ground  in  his  own  peculiar  and  happy  style 
for  his  own  children's  use.  When  the  work 
was  published  its  success  was  instantaneous. 

Black  Beauty  :  The  Autobi-^graphy  of  a  Horse. 
By  Anna  Sewell,  with  50  illustrations.  This 
work  is  to  the  animal  kingdom  what  "Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  "  was  to  the  Afro- American. 

The  Arabian  Nights  Entertainments.  With 
130  illustration!.  Contains  the  most  favorably 
known  of  the  stories. 

Grimm's  Fairy  Tales.  With  55  illustrations. 
The  tales  are  a  wonderful  collection,  as  in- 
teresting, from  a  literary  point  of  view,  as  they 
are  delightful  as  stories. 

Flower  Fables.  By  Louisa  May  Alcott.  With 
numerous  illustrations,  full-page  and  text. 

A  series  of  verj-  interesting  fairy  tales  by  the 
most  charming  of  American  stor^-tellers. 

Andersen's  Fairy  Tales.  By  Hans  Christian 
Andersen.     With  77  illustrations. 

These  wonderful  tales  are  not  only  attractive 
to  the  young,  but  equally  acceptable  to  those 
of  mature  years. 


Altemus'  Young  Peoples'  Library.— Continued. 

Grandfather's  Chair;  A  History  for  Youth.    Ey 

NatJianiel  HaAV'thorne.  With  60  illustrations. 
The  story  of  America  from  the  landing  of  the 
Puritans  to  the  acknowledgment  without  re- 
serve of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States. 

Aunt  Martha's  Corner  Cupboard.  By  Mary  and 
Elizabeth  Kirby,  with  60  illustrations.  Stories 
about  Tea,  Coffee,  Sugar,  Rice  and  Chinavv-are, 
and  other  accessories  of  the  well-kept  Cupboard. 

Battles  oi  the  War  for  independence.  By 
Prescott  Holmes,  with  70  illustrations.  A 
graphic  and  full  history  of  the  Rebellion  of  the 
American  Colonies  from  the  yoke  and  oppres- 
sion of  England.  Including  also  an  account  of 
the  second  war  with  Great  Britain,  and  the 
War  with  Mexico. 

Battles  of  the  War  for  the  Union.  By  Prescott 
Holmes,  with  80  illustrations.  A  correct  and 
impariia I  account  of  the  greatest  civil  war  in 
the  annals  of  history.  Both  of  these  histories 
of  American  wars  are  anecessary  part  of  the  edu- 
cation of  all  intelligent  American  boys  and  girls. 

Water  Babies.  By  Charles  Kingsley,  with  84 
illustrations.     A  charming^fairy  tale. 

Young  People's  History  of  the  War  with  Spain. 
By  Prescott  Holmes,  with  86  illustrations.  The 
story  of  the  war  for  the  freedom  of  Cuba, 
arranged  for  young  readers. 

Heroes  of  the  United  States  Navy.  By  Hart- 
well  James,  with  65  illustrations.  From  the 
days  of  the  Revolution  until  the  end  of  the 
War  with  Spain. 

Military  Heroes  of  the  United  States.  By 
Hartwell  James,  with  nearly  100  illustrations. 
Their  brave  deeds  from  Lexington  to  Santiago, 
told  in  a  captivating  manner. 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  By  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe, 
with  50  illustrations.  Arranged  for  j-oung 
readers. 

Sea  Kings  and  Naval  Heroes.  By  Hartwell 
James,  with  50  illustrations. 


Altemus'  Illustrated  Editions. 


ABBOTT'S  Historical  Series. 

PRICE,  50  CENTS  EACH. 

A  well-known  and  popular  series  of  biographical  histories, 
by  Jacob  Abbott,  containing  the  lives  and  deeds  of  founders 
of  Kmpires,  Her  es  and  Heroines  of  History,  Kings,  Queens 
and  Conquerors. 

Handsomely  printed  front  large,  clear  type,  on  extra-fine 
super-calendered  paper  and  embellished  with  half-tone 
frontispieces,  numerous  full-page  and  text  illustrations  and 
maps 

t  Romulus,  the  Founder  of  Rome.    With  49 

illustrations. 
.  2  Cyrus    the    Great,    the    Founder    of   the 

Persian  Empire.     With  40  illustrations. 
.  3  Darius  the  Great,  King  of  the  Medes  and 

Persian.     With  34  illustrations. 
.  4  Xerxes  the  Great,  King  of  Persia.     With 

39  illustrations. 
.  5  Alexander   the   Great,  King  of  Macedon. 

With  51  illustrations. 
.  6  Pyrrhus,  King  of    Epirus.     With  45  illus- 
trations. 
.  7  Hannibal,  the  Carthaginian.     With  37  illus- 
trations. 
.  S  Julius    Ceesar,  the    Roman    Conqueror. 

With  44  illustrations. 
.  9  Alfred   the  Great,   of   England.     With  40 

illustrations. 
.10  William  the  Conqueror,  of  Engla).id,   With 

43  illustrations. 
.11  Hernando    Cortez,  the    Conqueror    of 

Mexico.     With  30  illustrations. 
.12  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  With  45  illustrations. 
.13  Queen    Elizabeth,    of    England.     With  49 

illustrations. 
.14  King  Charles  the  First,  of  England.     With 

41  illustrations. 
.15  King   Charles    the  Second,    of    England. 

With  38  illustrations. 
.16  Maria  Antoinette,  Queen  of  France.    With 

41  illustrations. 


Altemus*  Illustrated  Editions.— Continued. 

...17  Madam  Roland,  A  Heroine  of  the  French 
Revolution.     With  42  illustrations. 

...jS  Josephine,  Empress  ot  France.  With  40 
illustrations. 


Altemus'  Dainty  Series  of 
Choice  Gift  Books. 

PRICE,  50  CENTS. 

Bound  in  half-white  Vellum,  illuminated  sides, 
unique  design  in  gold,  with  numerous  half-tone 
illustrations.     Size,  6}^  x  8  inches. 

1  The  Silver  Buckle.     By  M.  Nataline  Crump- 
ton.     With  12  illustrations. 

2  Charles  Dickens'  Children  Stories.    With 
30  illustrations. 

3  The    Children's   Shakespeare.      With     30 
illustrations. 

4  Young  Robin  Hood.     By  G.  Manville  Fenn. 
With  30  illustrations. 

5  Honor  Bright.     By  Mary  C.  Rowsell.     With 
24  illustrations. 

6  The  Voyage  of  the  Mary  Adair.  By  Frances 
K-  Crompton.     With  19  illustrations. 

7  The  Kingfisher's  Egg.    By  L.   T.  Meade. 
With  24  illustrations. 

8  Tattine.     By  Ruth  Ogden.      With  24  illus- 
trations. 

9  The  Doings  of  a  Dear  Little  Couple.     By 
Mary  D.  Brine.     With  20  illustrations. 

10  Our  Soldier  Boy.     By   G.    Manville   Fenn. 
With  23  illustrations. 

1 1  The  Little  Skipper.     By  G.  Manville  Fenn, 
With  22  illustrations. 

12  Little  Qervaise  and  other  Stories.     With 
22  illustrations. 

13  The  Christmas    Fairy.     By  John  Strange 
Winter.     With  24  illustrations. 


ALTEMUS'   ILLUSTRATED   DEVOTIONAL   SERIES 


An  entirely  new  line  of  popular  Religious  Litera- 
ture, carefully  printed  on  fine  paper,  daintily  and 
durably  bound  in  handy  volume  size. 

Full  White  Vellum,  handsome  new  mosaic  design 
in  gold  and  colors,  gold  edges,  boxed,  50  cents. 

I  Abide  in  Christ.     Murray. 

3  Beecher's  Addresses. 

4  Best  Thoughts.    Front  Henry  Druinmond. 

5  BibSe  Birthday  Book. 

6  Brooks'  Addresses. 

7  Buy  Your  Own  Cherries,     Kirton. 

8  Changed  Cross,  The. 

9  Christian  Life.     Oxenden. 
10  Christian  Living.    Meyer. 

12  Christie's  Old  Organ.     Walton. 

13  Coming  to  Christ.    Havergal. 

14  Daily  Food  for  Christians. 

15  Day  Breaketh,  The.    Shugert. 

17  Drummond's  Addresses. 

18  Evening  Thoughts.     Havergal. 

19  Gold  Dust. 

20  Holy  in  Christ. 

21  Imitation  of  ChriM,  The.     A' Kempis. 

22  Impregnable  Rock  of  Holy  Scripture. 

Gladstone. 

23  Jessica's  First  Prayer.    Stretton. 

24  John   Ploughman's   Pictures.     Spurgeon. 

25  John  Ploughman's  Talk.     Spurgeon. 

26  Kept  for  the  Master's  Use.     Havergal. 

27  Keble's  Christian  Year. 

28  Let  Us  Follow  Him.     Sienkiewicz. 

29  Like  Christ.     Murray. 

30  Line  Upon  Line. 

31  Manliness  of  Christ,  The,     Hughes, 


Henry  Altemus'  Publications. 


.32  Message  of  Peace,  The.     Church. 

33  Morning  Thoughts.     Havergal. 

34  My  King  and  His  Service.    Havergal. 

35  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World. 
^    ,  ,  ^         .  Drumniond. 

37  Pathway  of  Promise. 

38  Pathway  of  Safety.     Oxenden. 

39  Peep  of  Day. 

40  Pilgrim's  Progress,  The.     Bunyan. 

41  Precept  Upon  Precept. 

42  Prince  of  the  House  of  David.    Ingrakam. 

44  Shepherd  Psalm.     Meyer. 

45  Steps  Into  the  Blessed  Life.     Meyer. 

46  Stepping  Heavenward.     Prentiss. 

47  The  Throne  of  Grace. 
50  With  Christ.     Murray. 

The  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic  (a  History).  By  John  Loth- 
rop  Motley.  55  full-page  half-tone  Engravings.  Complete  in 
two  volumes — over  1,600  pages.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth,  per  set, 
f2.oo.     Half  Morocco,  gilt  top,  per  set,  53  25. 

Quo  Vadis.  A  tale  of  the  time  of  Nero,  by  Henrylc  Sienkiewicz. 
Complete  and  unabridged.  Translated  by  Dr.  S.  A.  Binion. 
Illustrated  by  M.  De  Lipman.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth,  ornamen- 
tal, 515  pages,  $1.25. 

With  Fire  and  Sword.  By  the  author  oi  "Quo  Vadis."  A 
tale  of  the  past.     Illustrated.     Crown  8vo.     825  pages,  ^i. 00. 

Pan  Michael.  By  the  author  of  "  Quo  Vadis."  A  historical 
tale.     Illustrated.     Crown  Bvo.     530  pages,  gi.oo. 

Julian,  the  Apostate.  By  S.  Mcreshkovsld.  Illustrated.  Cloth 
i2mo.     450  pages,  gi. 00. 

Manual  of  flythology.  For  the  use  of  Schools,  Art  Students, 
and  General  Readers,  by  Alexander  S.  Murray.  With  Notes, 
Revisions,  and  Additions  by  William  H.  Klapp.  With  200 
illustrations  and  an  exhaustive  Index.  Large  ismo.  Over 
400  pages,  551.25. 

The  Age  of  Fable;  or  Beauties  of  Mythology.  By  Thomas 
Bulfinch,  with  Notes,  Revisions,  and  Additions  by  William  H. 
Klapp.  With  200 illustrations  and  an  exhaustive  Index.  Large 
i2mo.     450  pages,  J1.25. 

Stephen.  A  Soldier  of  the  Cross.  By  Florence  Morse 
Kingsley,  author  of  "Titus,  a  Comrade  of  the  Cross."  Cloth, 
iznio.     369  pages,  Ji.oo. 


Henry  Altemus'  Publications. 


The  Cross  Tliumphant.  By  Florence  Morse  Kingsley,  author 
of  "  Paul  and  Stephen."     Cloth,  i2mo.     364  pages,  $1  00. 

Paul.  A  Herald  of  the  Cro.cs.  By  Florence  Morse  Kingsley. 
Clo'.h,  i2ino.     450  pages,  $1.00. 

The  Piigrlm's  Progress,  as  John  Bunyan  wrote  it.  A  fac- 
simile reproduction  of  the  first  edition,  published  in  1678. 
Antique  cloth,  12010.     gi.25. 

The  Fairest  of  the  Fair.  By  Hildegarde  Hawthorne.  Cloth, 
i6mo.     51.25. 

Around  the  WorSd  ia  Eighty  Minutes.  Contains  over  100 
photographs  of  the  most  famous  places  and  editices,  with  des- 
criptive text.     Cloth,  50  cents. 

Shakespeare's  Complete  Works.  With  64  Boydell,  and 
numerous  other  illustration.'!,  four  volumes,  over  2,000  pages. 
Half  Morocco,  i2mo.     Boxed,  per  set.  ;^3.oo. 

The  Core  of  Children.    By  Elizabeth  R.  Scovil.    Cloth,  izmo. 

$i.ao 

Preparation  for  Motherhood.  By  Elizabeth  R.  Scovil.  Cloth, 
i2mo.     320  pages,  gi. 00. 

Baby's  Requirements.  By  Elizabeth  R.  Scovil.  Limp  bind- 
ing, leatherette.     25  cents. 

Names  for  Children.     By  Elizabeth  Robinson  Scovil.      Cloth, 

i2mo.     40  cents. 
Trif  and    Trixy.       By  John    Habberton,   author  of  "  Helen's 

Babies."     Cloth,  i2mo.     50  cents. 
She  Who  Will  Not  When  She  May.    By  Eleanor  G.  Walton. 

Half-tone  illustrations  by  C.  P.  M.  Rumford.     "An  exquisite 

prose  idyll."     Cloth,  gilt  top,  deckle  edges.    ;Ji  00. 
A    Son    of  the   Carolinas.      By  C.  E.  Satterthwaite.      Cloth, 

i2mc.     280  pages,  50  cents. 
What  Women  Should  Know.     By  Mrs.  E.  B.  Duffy.    Cloth, 

320  pages,  75  cents. 

Dore  Masterpieces. 

I'he  Dore  Bible  Gallery.  Containing  100  full-page  engravings 
by  Gustave  Dore. 

Milton's  Paradise  Lost.  With  50  full-page  engravings  by  Gus- 
tave Dore. 

Dante's  Inferno.  With  75  full-page  engravings  by  Gustave 
Dore. 

Dante's  Purgatory  and  Paradise.  With  60  full-page  engrav- 
ings by  Gustave  Dore. 

Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King.  With  37  full-page  engravings 
by  Gustave  Dore. 

The    Rime    of    the    Ancient    flariner.      By  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge,  with  46  full-page  engravings  by  Gustave  Dore. 
Cloth,  ornamental,  large  quarto  (9  x  12).     Each  Jla.oo. 


ALTEI'lUS'  EDITION  SHAKESPEARE'S  PLAYS. 

HANDY  VOLUME  SIZE. 

Witiia  historical  and  critical  introduction  to  each 
volume,  by  Professor  Henry  Morley. 


Limp  cloth  binding,  gold  top,  illuminated  title 

and  frontispiece   ...        .  ^ 35  cts. 

Paste-gram  roan,  flexible,  gold  top    ...  50  cts. 

1.  All's  We!!  tliat  Ends  Well. 

2.  Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

3.  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dreasi. 

4.  As  Yoa  Lilce  It. 

5.  Comedy  of  Errors. 

6.  Corioianus. 

7.  Cymbedne. 

8.  Hamlet. 

9.  Julius  Caesar. 

10.  King  Henry  IV.    (Part  I.) 

11.  King  Henry  IV.    (Part  II.) 
12  King  Henry  V. 

13.  King  Henry  VI.    (Part  I.) 

14.  King  Henry  VI.    (Part  II.) 
IS  King  Henry  VI.     (Part  III.) 

16.  King  Henry  VIII. 

17.  King  John. 

18.  King  Lear. 

19.  King  Richard  if. 

20.  King  Richard  ill. 

21.  Love's  Labour's  Lost. 

22.  Macbeth. 

23.  Measure  for  Measure. 

24.  Much  Ado  About  Nothinj' 

25.  Othello. 

26.  Pericles. 

27.  Romeo  and  Juliet. 

28.  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

29.  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

30.  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew. 

31.  The  Tempest. 

32.  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

33.  The  Winter's  Tale. 

34.  Timon  of  Athens. 

35.  Titus  Andronicus. 

36.  Troilus  and  Cressida.  . 

37.  Twelfth  Night.  N(, 

38.  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece.      j-     ^  '^ 

39.  Sonnets,  Passionate  Pilgrim,  Etc./--^    \*       >^4  4?      kg 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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